


Peaceful Heartbeats

by shipsandthings



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Also a little angst, Fluff, M/M, Tronler Friendship, Tronnor, YouTube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1891962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipsandthings/pseuds/shipsandthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler thought back to when he, Troye, and Connor had first met up at Vidcon last year. Tyler had escorted Troye over to the O2L boys, and Troye had excitedly shook all their hands. But only one of them made his eyes go wide and starry blue. Only one of them made him stutter over his words and giggle uncontrollably. That was the first time Tyler thought there could be something between two. </p><p>And it was far from the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so I was getting tired of waiting for Tronnor fics, so I decided to write one myself! I already have about five chapters written, and this will be quite a long story.  
> This is just for fun and not meant to be taken too seriously. :)

**Tyler**

Tyler Oakley considered himself to be far more intelligent than other people gave him credit for. Sure, he played up the fan girl and diva aspects of his personality and spent quite a lot of his time screaming and flailing, but he was actually a very observant and intuitive person. Right now, sitting at a corner table in a small Los Angeles coffee shop, he felt like a bona fide Sherlock Holmes. Really, people did not give him enough credit.

Across the table sat Connor Franta and Troye Sivan, two of his closest YouTube friends. Troye was visiting from Australia, so the three decided they ought to hang out for as long as he was in town. Tyler had a mouthful of iced coffee at the moment, so he wasn't talking (something that did not happen often, to be honest).

While Tyler sipped on his vanilla-flavored drink, he looked across at his two friends, who were sitting maybe a little too close together to be platonic. If he had been an outside observer, Tyler had no doubt in his mind that he would think the two were a couple. A couple of adorable twinks with perfect hair. Connor cracked a stupid pun about his cappuccino, and Troye burst into the cutest giggle Tyler had ever heard.

While Tyler thrived on romantic comedies and over-the-top love songs, this was almost sickening in its adorableness. He swallowed his mouthful of coffee and said, “We're so glad you could visit, Troye. I mean, those 15-hour flights must be exhausting. I wonder how you find the energy and time to come over so often.” Sometimes Tyler liked to imagine he was on his very own cheeky sitcom where he talked directly to camera and winked at it when he said something particularly clever. This was one of those times.

“Well, I love the people here. And LA in general, of course,” Troye said in his little accent. Tyler noticed the way Connor stared at Troye while he was talking, his green-eyed gaze ever so subtly flicking to his lips. Tyler noticed, of course, but Troye did not.

You see, Tyler knew things. And his gaydar was top notch. From the day he met Connor, he knew the boy craved the D and was just hiding it. He played to the camera, was cute and quirky in the way teenage girls ate up. Tyler was convinced Connor was gay—or at least, not straight. He wasn't about that bi erasure.

For the past few months, as the three of them grew closer, Tyler started to suspect some things and started to play detective. He was an avid Tumblr user, obviously, and very aware of the avid Troyler shippers on the site. However, he recently realized that a smaller group of people shipped “Tronnor”, Troye and Connor. At first, he'd thought it was just a cute but unrealistic idea that would probably never happen—especially if Connor never came out of the closet.

But now, looking across at the two of them, Tyler began to consider it. The two were both adorable, close in age, and their personalities easily complimented each other. Tyler always thought the best relationships came from friendships. Tronnor wasn't as impossible as he'd thought.

“While I'm here, we could film some collabs,” Troye suggested, snapping Tyler out of his musings. “There's got to be a bunch of challenges floating around we could do. The shippers will love it.”

“The Troyler shippers or the Tronnor shippers?” Tyler asked innocently. He took another swig of iced coffee. He noticed the way Troye and Connor instantly glanced at each other, a note of fear on their faces.

“Tronnor, as in Troye... and me?” Connor said. His voice was just a bit higher-pitched than usual.

“People will ship anything. They'll ship Britney with Gaga. They'll ship me with President Obama. Of course, people ship you two.”

Connor and Troye said nothing for a long moment. “Um, why?” Troye asked. “Why would people ship us? We haven't even made a video together or anything. Anyway, Connor's not interested in me. Because he's straight and stuff.”

Tyler noticed that Troye didn't say he wasn't interested in Connor. The way he fumbled over his words was enough to make Tyler's heart soar. He had become a little two invested in these two lately. It wasn't his fault they'd be perfect together. “Let me count the ways. One, you tweet each other constantly and adorably. Two, you travel in the same circles—me. Three, you are attractive young men. Four, people will ship anything, as I've already said.”

Again, the two didn't speak. Tyler simply couldn't understand it. He assumed Troye was still convinced Connor was straight (though anyone with a reasonably effective gaydar could see right through that facade), and Connor wasn't ready to come out, so he couldn't express interest in Troye. They were at an impasse. And it was Tyler's civic responsibility to set the record straight and bring the two of them together. It had to happen.

“Oh my God, Connor, did you already Instagram your coffee?” Troye asked, changing the subject expertly. “We've been here for literally three minutes.”

“But look, the barista put a cute little swirly heart on the top!” Connor pointed to the slightly malformed design atop his cappuccino. “I had to!”

“Looks like you already received a marriage proposal, Con. This one's from... xxyoutubexlvr143.” Troye clicked on her profile. “She is nine years old. Is she even allowed to be on Instagram?”

“Well, I do plan on accepting my hundred thousandth marriage proposal, so it's good she's starting early.”

Tyler was barely even listening to the banter. He was too busy planning on how to set his mission into motion.

* * *

That night, the three guys were playing chubby bunny in Tyler's kitchen. They weren't filming it because Tyler had already uploaded a video on it before with Marcus Butler, and the fad was pretty much over. Connor stuffed yet another marshmallow in his mouth and pronounced something more like “chuffy funny” than “chubby bunny.” Troye laughed and nearly spat out his own marshmallows.

Tyler had already given up two marshmallows earlier. His heart wasn't in the competition, and he was already starting phase one of his plan—Get Connor to Admit He Isn't Straight. He would begin with suggestive innuendos. “Wow, Connor, you're really good at this. You're going to make some boy very happy one day.”

Connor, his cheeks stuffed with marshmallows, shot him a look. Whether it was supposed to be intimidating or terrified or something else entirely was masked by the fact that he had a dozen marshmallows in his mouth. Troye, equally stuffed, looked more pink than usual. Tyler knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“Or, you know, a girl. When you deep throat her boob or whatever shit straight people do.”

At that, Troye spat his marshmallows halfway across the kitchen floor. Sugary goop dripped down his chin and Tyler fought to keep his mind out of the gutter about his eighteen year old friend. “This is disgusting,” Troye said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and laughing a little. “I'll get the sponge.” He stepped away from the other two to retrieve one.

“I win!” Connor announced before spitting the white mess straight into the trashcan rather than all over the floor.

Again, Tyler attempted to not think dirty thoughts about his friend. He failed. “Most guys prefer swallowing.”

“What the fuck?” Connor said, looking just this side of angry. However, Troye soon returned to room triumphantly, wielding a bright yellow sponge. He knelt down on the floor and began mopping up marshmallows and spit. Connor glanced down at him, and Tyler definitely didn't miss the look in his eyes.

“Thanks, Troye,” Tyler said as the boy cleaned up the mess.

He thought back to when the three had first met up at Vidcon last year. Tyler had escorted Troye over to the O2L boys, and Troye had excitedly shook all their hands. But only one of them made his eyes go wide and starry blue. Only one of them made him stutter over his words and giggle uncontrollably. That was the first time Tyler thought there could be something between two.

And it was far from the last.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Tyler**

 

The next night, after a day of shopping and hanging around LA, the three returned to Tyler's apartment. They'd flicked through the channels until Tyler settled on a _Catfish_ marathon. Troye had seemed fascinated by the show, despite its occasional corniness, and insisted they keep watching until the marathon ended at 2 AM, despite their long day. Tyler had already seen all the episodes, but he was willing to watch them again.

“I think it was pretty cool how the girl thought she was talking to a man the whole time, and she fell in love with him,” Troye began. “But when she found out it was actually a girl, that didn't make her feelings go away. Because it was the same person, you know?”

“Yeah, it was an interesting twist,” Connor said.

“Because I guess, if you love someone, it's because of who they are. Maybe it doesn't really matter what they look like.” Troye, in the late hour, seemed to be taking this very seriously.

“Well, I think we all have exceptions,” Tyler said. “Y'all know I'm gay as they come, but I would never turn down Lady Gaga.”

“I think that just further proves it...” Connor said with a laugh.

“I just mean you never know who you're going to fall in love with. Or who you're going to be attracted to. Sometimes those things overlap, but sometimes they don't,” Tyler said.

Troye rubbed his eyes, dark circles beneath, and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. “This conversation is way too deep for me right now. I'm exhausted,” he said. “I'm going to bed. See you guys tomorrow.” With that, he fumbled down the hallway to the guest room, almost tripping over the edge of the carpet. Connor and Tyler both watched him go.

It was moments like this that Tyler was struck by the pure innocence of Troye, the sweetness of him. He found himself wanting to protect him from the world and its dangers more often than not, which was not a part of his personality that usually revealed itself.

“He's adorable,” Tyler said with a smile.

“Hashtag Troyler moment,” Connor teased, flashing his signature white smile.

Tyler rolled his eyes. He loved all his fans, casual or devoted, shippers or not. People would ship Troyler no matter what, and he knew that. They were two popular YouTubers that were both gay and were close. But in real life, he and Troye were just friends, and Tyler thought the age difference between them was a little too much, especially with Troye being only eighteen. There was a part of him that wanted Troye to stay just as he was.

“C'mon, Connor, you know I'm like... a cool, sassy uncle to Troye,” Tyler said.

“I know, I know.” The three of them were very aware of how intense the shipping could be, and Connor knew the Troyler was more of a brotp than an otp.

With another yawn, Tyler prepared to head towards his bathroom to get ready for bed, but Connor put his hand on his shoulder before he could. Tyler turned around to face him.

“Ty, I... I have to talk to you. It's important.” Immediately, Tyler knew he had to put aside his exhaustion and listen. Connor was always making jokes and kidding around, but right now he was all seriousness.

“Oh, uh, sure. Let's go to my room?” Connor nodded in agreement and the two headed down the hall. The door to the guest room was already closed with no line of darkness beneath it. Troye was already in bed. Tyler opened the door to his bedroom, and the two went inside.

Inside the room, Connor knitted his fingers together in front of him and bit his lip. This was really happening—Connor was about to come out, wasn't he? Tyler didn't think his plan would work this quickly. Clearly he had underestimated his abilities. He watched as Connor nervously sat down on the edge of the bed.

“What is it, girl?” Tyler asked, trying to ease Connor's nerves. He knew how scary it could be to talk about personal things.

Connor exhaled heavily, slouching his shoulders. Finally, after a moment of silence, he looked up and locked eyes with Tyler. “Well, I was just thinking about what you said tonight about... exceptions. It's kind of something I've thought about for a while, but you brought it up and... Do you think that's a real thing?”

Tyler was confused. He'd expected a straight-forward “I'm gay” or something. Not this vague question about “exceptions.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Connor looked distressed, unable to form a sentence. He ran his fingers through his quiff a couple times. “I mean, like maybe you've spent your whole life thinking you were attracted to a certain kind of person... say, a certain gender. But then, all of a sudden, there is this person or people that are nothing like that, and you, for some reason, feel attracted to them too. And you can't explain it.”

Tyler took a deep breath and reminded himself to be as sensitive as possible to Connor. It was clear how concerned and scared he was, and Tyler didn't want his friend to regret talking to him. “Do you mean a guy?” he asked in a gentle tone.

Connor sighed and nodded. “Well, I guess not just a guy. Multiple guys.” He paused. “But then for some of them, a lot of them, I feel nothing.”

“That's normal,” Tyler said. “You aren't attracted to every girl you meet, right?”

With a dramatic groan, Connor flopped backwards on the bed. “No, I just mean that... I don't feel like I'm gay or bi, I just... I don't know. Lately, I've been really confused.”

“Do you want to tell me the whole story?” Tyler asked.

“Okay, okay.” Connor took a deep breath and explained. “I was at the club with a couple of my roommates, just for fun. Then this guy kind of started hitting on me, and all the guys were laughing, so I rejected him. But I kind of didn't want to. Like, I was attracted to him, and I couldn't understand it.”

He ruffled his hair once again. “So, then we all got pretty drunk, but I kept thinking about that guy. Then, we went back to the house and...” Suddenly Connor turned bright red and rolled over on the bed, hiding his face in the blankets. “Oh god, this is so embarrassing,” he mumbled into the comforter.

“Just tell me.” Tyler was curious as to where this was going.

Connor flipped over and looked straight at Tyler. “I made out with Ricky.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Tyler's mouth hung open, shocked. He did not see that one coming. “So... what was that like?” He might as well get all the details.

“Horrible,” Connor said honestly. “I mean, I love Ricky and everything, but I am just not interested in him at all in that way.” He paused and bit his lip. “Plus he was kind of slobbery. And really touchy.”

“Okay, so then what?” Tyler tried to clear his mind of inappropriate images.

“Well, that made me wonder whether I was actually attracted to any guys, or if that guy at the bar was just a mistake or a fluke or whatever. But there's this friend of mine who I have, like, a pretty big crush on. I know I wouldn't mind making out with him.”

Tyler tried to repress a smile. Could he mean Troye? “So, do you think you might be bi? Or what?”

“I don't know!” Connor groaned again. “It's only ever been a few guys that I've been drawn to. That's what I meant by exceptions.”

Tyler couldn't relate to Connor's predicament. He was exclusively attracted to guys. He may worship Gaga and some other women, but he considered himself to just be gay. However, he knew a lot people didn't fit into clearly defined categories. “Connor, what I'd say is you don't have to label yourself. Pursue who you want, guy or girl. If people try to put you into a box you don't think you fit in, don't let them. Don't worry about whether you're gay or straight or bi or pan. Be you. That's the best advice I can give you.”

Connor let out a long breath, but he seemed to be more relaxed than he was at the beginning of their conversation. “Okay,” he said. “You're right. It just feels good to finally talk to someone about it.”

“Don't worry, Con. You'll figure it out.”

 

* * *

 

**Troye**

 

Troye jumped away from the door, feet padding silently on the carpet and his heart pounding fast. That sounded like the end of a conversation, which meant he had to make himself scarce as quickly as possible. He scurried back to his room and shut the door as quietly as he could. A second later, he heard the door to Tyler's bedroom swing open. He'd escaped just in time.

Troye waited until his heartbeat slowed down, and then he sat back down on the guest bed. He knew it was wrong to eavesdrop on conversations he wasn't a part of, but he wasn't able to resist. Anyway, now that he'd overheard, he tried to make sense of the discussion.

Connor was questioning his sexuality?

He remembered what it was like to question and then come to terms with being gay, though he had been a bit younger than Connor's twenty-one when he had figured it out. It was a tough, confusing time, but he had been able to accept it quite quickly. It didn't seem to be the same for Connor. As he situated himself beneath the covers and closed his eyes, he kept thinking about it.

And a bit selfishly, he wondered if this was good news for him and the stupid little crush he'd been harboring on Connor months now. Suddenly, it didn't seem quite as stupid and impossible. Maybe there was a chance.

As Troye drifted asleep, he dreamed of running through green fields, the exact color of Connor's eyes.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Troye**

 

When Troye finally stumbled out of bed at ten o'clock the next morning, he immediately headed for the shower. Still exhausted from a combination of his long day yesterday and some left-over jetlag, he spent longer than usual in the hot water, trying to wake himself up. When he at last exited the bathroom, dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, Connor and Tyler were already in the kitchen, eating matching bowls of Lucky Charms.

“Yes, my favorite,” Troye said, bounding towards the sugary cereal. He grabbed the brightly colored box and a bowl from Tyler's cupboard.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Tyler said with a grin.

“The Earth says hello,” Connor added in a strange voice. Troye glanced up at him, looking at his friend fully for the first time this morning. He caught his gaze and felt almost hypnotized by it. He was so far gone, so consumed by this crush, that he felt powerless.

“Slow down there, I think that's quite enough high fructose corn syrup,” Tyler said, tapping Troye on the forearm. Troye looked down at his bowl, nearly overflowing with rainbow marshmallows and frosted cereal. He set the box down and tried to act like he meant to pour out one thousand calories worth of children's cereal.

“What? I always eat this much,” Troye said casually, pouring in a bit of milk and grabbing a spoon out of a drawer. He sat down next to Connor and started eating before his cereal turned soggy.

Tyler excitedly began discussing the exciting upcoming events in the next few months. They would all be visiting Italy in March with a bunch of their other YouTube friends and then they would be staying over in England for a few more days with Zoe. Troye also was looking forward to their travels and getting to see their friends.

“And I mean Italian guys. Can I get a _woof?”_ Tyler asked, fanning himself dramatically.

“Woof,” Troye said with a giggle. He did have a weakness for European guys with accents and a poor grasp on the English language who talked with their hands. At least, he thought he did. He'd never really experienced one, but he was hoping.

Things would happen, eventually. Troye kept telling himself that, but here he was still single, lonely, and totally inexperienced. He knew he was still young, but sometimes being alone depressed him.

Troye shook his head to clear it of its internal whining. He turned to Connor. “Italian girls too, I guess?” He had to play like he hadn't overheard the entire conversation last night. For some reason, Connor hadn't decided to tell him yet. He tried not to think about why that was.

Connor bit his lip, catching it between his teeth, and Troye felt his heart stutter in his chest. It should be illegal to be that cute. That cute and still mostly straight.

“Yeah, girls too,” Connor said. Troye noticed the sharp look Tyler gave Connor.

“And of course all the history and the monuments and the food,” Troye said weakly, trying not to think about Connor and girls. “So much pasta.”

Connor didn't say anything. Troye tried to not feel miffed, but why would he talk to Tyler and not him? He thought they were good friends—they talked and texted all the time. He thought Connor trusted him. But instead of confiding in him, they just continued to eat their breakfast and ignored the subject. Troye stared at the rainbow of marshmallows populating his bowl and felt sick.

 

* * *

**Connor**

 

After spending the afternoon watching TV and editing videos, Tyler, Connor, and Troye were in desperate need of something fun to do. Connor laid out on the couch and pressed upload for his newest video—a Q and A. “Happy Frantastic Monday, everyone,” he muttered to himself, bored. He loved making videos, but editing them could be such a bore.

“Okay, that's enough work for the day!” Tyler announced, closing his laptop with a snap. “We need to get out of the house.”

“Thank the lord,” Troye said, shutting his own computer. He jumped out off Tyler's couch and asked, “So where to, Tyler?”

“I propose Olive Garden—I have a craving that must be satsfied—and then... maybe a club? I know this fabulous gay club that's totally fun. You'll love it.” Tyler completely ignored Connor's slightly frightened expression. Tyler knew he was still confused about his sexuality, and Troye still didn't know anything yet. Why would Tyler suggest something like that?

“That sounds good to me,” Troye said and gave Connor a look. “What about you, Con?”

The fact was, Connor did think that sounded fun. After a low key day, he could go for some drinks and dancing. Plus, he still had some experimenting and investigating to do. Maybe the club could help.

Begrudgingly, he recalled the last time he went out to such a place—and made out with Ricky. It was still a weird and embarrassing thing between them. They never brought it up. Hopefully, tonight would be better than that.

“Sure, that sounds really fun. I love Olive Garden,” Connor said. They all knew Olive Garden wasn't the issue—it was the club.

Still, that made Tyler break out into a sparkling white smile. For a second, Connor wondered if he was preparing for a Crest Whitening Strips sponsorship. “All right, boys, let's go.”

 

* * *

 

When they arrived at the restaurant, Connor ordered his favorite—lasagna and a house salad. Meanwhile, Tyler stuffed himself with Alfredo pasta and calmly explained the intricacies of gay clubs to the other two in between bites. Troye was still eighteen, but Tyler insisted that as long as he didn't drink any alcohol he'd be allowed inside.

“Now, if a guy starts dancing up on you, you have two choices,” Tyler said. “You can dance up on him, if that's what you want. But if you don't give your consent to be danced upon by that peasant, then you throw your drink in his face. Or come back to me, which is probably cheaper and less messy.”

“Guys just dance up on you?” Connor asked, mildly alarmed.

“Connor, girls get danced upon all the time. And in a gay club, adorable boys like you get the same treatment. It's a difficult life being cute, isn't it?” Tyler tossed his currently blond hair.

They all finished their meals, paid, and ate the mint chocolates that came with the bill. Then Tyler drove them the few blocks to the gay club. Connor couldn't help but feel a little nervous. He wasn't shy at all, but the pounding music drifting out of the club was intimidating even to him.

“C'mon!” Tyler said after he parked on the side of the road. Connor got out of the passenger seat and Troye from the backseat. Connor looked down at his outfit, handpicked by Tyler, and felt slightly uncomfortable. He wore tank-tops a lot, but this one was a pastel lavender like Tyler's old hair, and his jeans were even tighter than usual. “You gotta work what you got,” Tyler had said, smacking his butt. His friend really had no sense of boundaries.

Connor slammed the car door behind him and started following Tyler towards the club, which had neon lights flashing and drum beats echoing against the walls. “You okay?” Troye asked, strolling up beside him.

“Yeah, it looks fun. I love trying new things.” He wondered briefly if Troye suspected him, or if he just thought Connor was being a good sport—going out to a gay club for his friends. He had considered telling him at breakfast that morning, but for some reason it felt different that telling Tyler. Connor wasn't ready to admit to himself why he felt that way.

For a long moment, Troye didn't say anything as they walked toward the club. He looked at the ground, blue eyes downcast and his expression unreadable.

“Is something wrong?” Connor gently tapped him on the shoulder, and Troye looked up from the ground and met his gaze.

And Connor couldn't really explain it, but something about the moment felt electric, sharp, like a buzz of _something_ between them that he couldn't put his finger on.

“Hurry up, twinks!” called out Tyler from a few feet ahead. He was clinging onto the door to the bar. Colored lights flashed from inside and the Lady Gaga song playing sounded louder than before. The moment was broken, and the two followed Tyler into the club.

“Holy shit, it's loud,” Connor said as the door fell closed behind them.

“Haven't you ever been dancing before?” Tyler asked, arms already raised above his head as he swayed to his queen's music. “If your ears aren't ringing by the end of the night, it's a sub-par club.”

Despite his initial reservations, Connor quickly started to have fun. He wasn't the biggest Gaga fan, though he'd never say so to Tyler's face, but the music quickly improved to things he liked. The beats were pounding and rhythmic, perfect for dancing. For the first few songs, all three of the boys grooved together in a triangle of sorts.

Just as a slightly slower song started to play, Tyler grabbed Connor by the shoulder and shouted into his ear, “Dance with somebody else. Someone cute.”

“You guys are cute!” Connor shouted over the song. “I'm fine here.”

“No, Con, seriously. Have fun!” Tyler said before shoving him roughly into the crowd. Connor glanced over his shoulder before he stumbled forward, catching Troye's eye for the second time that night. The look he gave him was almost sad. Why would Troye be feeling sad in the middle of a dancing club? It was supposed to be fun.

Connor danced awkwardly amongst the crowd for a few seconds before a tall, dark-haired guy approached him. He was actually really attractive, Connor thought, and the two danced next to each other for the remainder of the song. Once, their hips bumped against each other, but nothing about the moment made Connor catch his breath or swoon. Wasn't it supposed to feel different?

In the brief break between songs, the man said into his ear, “Wanna get away?”

All of a sudden, Connor was struck by how _not him_ this place, this guy, this everything was. Connor shook his head quickly, and starting moving through the crowd to find his friends again. He knew the club was made for dancing and flirting and fooling around with strangers, but something about that made him sick to his stomach. He wasn't against being casual and hooking up necessarily, but it didn't feel right to him in the moment.

Especially because he was growing more and more sure that he was interested in someone else.

Connor found Troye and Tyler sitting at the bar. Tyler had a bright green margarita with a blue paper umbrella, and Troye had a dark fizzy drink—Coke. He approached his friends and slid onto the bar stool next to Troye. “Hey,” he said.

“Back so soon? Quickie?” Tyler teased.

“I really don't think this whole club scene is for me,” Connor admitted. “Gay club scene,” he added belatedly, still trying to keep up the wobbly facade for Troye. Why did he keep lying to his friend? But now that he'd started, he found it hard to stop.

“Aw, don't knock it till you try it,” Tyler said, taking a long sip of his margarita. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I'm fine,” Connor replied. He turned to Troye, “Did you get carded? You look so sad with your virgin Rum and Coke.”

Troye cracked a small smile. “Eh, it's fine.” But Connor was sure there was something more he wasn't saying. He remembered the way Troye looked at him as he walked into the crowd of dancers.

Before he could press any further, a man walked right up behind them and stood between their two seats. He was so close Connor could practically feel the man's body heat through his clothes.

“Could I trouble one or both of you to a dance, perhaps?” he asked with a leering smile. He had to be at least forty. Connor and Troye exchanged glances and burst out laughing. Was he serious?

“Hey, what about me?” called out Tyler, looking mock-offended.

After turning down that dance and listening to a few more songs, they all headed back to Tyler's house to crash after another long day. As Connor laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, he tried to sort through his emotions about the day. He was glad that he confided in Tyler yesterday, but he felt guilty that he hadn't told Troye or anyone else.

Of course, there was something niggling at the back of his mind.

Why couldn't he be interested in any of the guys at the club? Sure, he'd glanced at them and found some of them to be attractive, but he'd felt nothing. Could it be that stupid crush he was trying so hard to ignore?

But Connor thought about one more thing—one more thing that made him feel almost ashamed. All this confusion was making him anxious and nervous because a part of him still saw his future in exactly the same way he always had.

This had been the plan: He'd continue to do YouTube videos and then try to expand to another media or creative outlet when the website died down in popularity. Then he'd meet a nice girl, get married, and have a couple children. They'd probably live in the suburbs and grow old together, just like his mom and dad.

That image of his future said nothing to other guys. Going to the gay club was scary to him because what if he liked those guys better than he liked girls? If that happened, it would make him re-evaluate everything about where he was going.

That uncertainty was terrifying to him. He wished he was braver.

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Connor**

 

The first time Connor thought he might seriously be interested in Troye was when they hung out together with Tyler in San Francisco in February. Connor already considered him to be a great friend, but during that visit something hit him. He started to look at Troye and notice little things about him, and he started to dote on those things in his mind.

The little scar on Troye's face, the quirks of his Australian accent, the wild way his hair looked before he styled it. It was all adorable to him, and also strangely addictive. All of a sudden, he couldn't _stop_ noticing those things, and he couldn't stop looking for others. After Troye left, they started Skyping more than before. He felt Troye invading his thoughts and his time. Connor felt like he'd never stop checking for new texts from him.

One night, he had a dream about him, a very inappropriate dream, and that sealed the deal for him. Connor had a huge crush on Troye, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The thing was, Connor had gone through life believing himself to be straight as an arrow. He acted that way; he saw himself that way. He had a couple girlfriends in high school and after, and he had enjoyed talking to them, kissing them. Going further with them. But at the same time, there were always questioning thoughts in the back of him mind that maybe he liked guys in the same way. The thoughts only got louder as he grew older.

When he met Troye, the thoughts screamed at him, danced behind his eyelids as he tried to fall asleep.

He wondered if Troye could see it, could read his mind. The two exchanged flirty tweets for the world to see, and flirted even harder over the privacy of Skype. But they never said anything outright, and Connor could continue to pretend like his feelings didn't exist.

Tyler visited him often in LA, and sometimes he expressed concern.

“You mean you never told Troye what you told me? Why not?” Tyler demanded, looking almost angry. Connor thought it looked almost comical, the red in his face juxtaposed against his lilac hair.

“I've never told anyone besides you. Anyway, I don't think it's a big deal anymore. I think the whole attraction to guys thing was just a phase. I'm over it.” Connor knew he was lying, but he couldn't help himself.

“Connor, stop it. Maybe you're bi, maybe you're pan, maybe you're a fucking chameleon. One thing's for sure—you're not straight.” Connor flushed. Tyler never got mad at him. “Here are the facts. You flirt with Troye, random guys, even me, all the time. When I look over your shoulder when you're on Tumblr, nine times out of ten, it's a shirtless guy or a gay porn gif. And you may keep insisting that you're straight, but for all the girls throwing themselves at you, you haven't taken one home in months.”

“How do you know I haven't?” Connor asked defensively.

“Because I am pretty much your best friend. I'm the only one who knows your secret, the only one you're not pretending for. I know what you're doing.”

“Why are you so mad at me? It's my life. It's not your business.”

“Because you're playing with Troye. That's not okay. I'm trying to protect him. I didn't think I'd have to protect him from you.” Tyler was breathing heavily, his face red. Connor had never seen him so angry, and he hoped he never would again.

“I'm sorry,” Connor said finally. For some reason, he thought he might cry. Instead he stepped closer to Tyler and pulled him into a hug. “It's just that I'm confused about myself, and it's stressing me out. I know I'm being a jerk to Troye. I know.”

It wasn't that he was actually cruel outright to Troye. He was being so nice, so caring that it was almost a joke. Because Connor didn't know if he had any intention of taking it further or making anything real out of the two of them. It was selfish.

Tyler pulled away from the hug. “You have to honest with him. That's all I ask.”

Connor bit his lip and nodded. “You're a better friend than me, I think.”

Tyler didn't reply, but they both knew it was the truth. They didn't have to say anything.

 

* * *

 

**Tyler**

 

A month passed. The three were unable to see each other for most of the time. Troye was traveling and working on his music, Connor was planning out the future O2L tour, and Tyler was busy with his charity work. The three texted and Skyped a bunch while they couldn't hang out, but that just wasn't the same. However, Tyler knew that they would reunited very soon and would get to spend a lot of time together in Italy in just a week or so. He almost couldn't contain his excitement.

Tyler was tossing clothes that he intended to pack out of his closet. They landed in a messy pile that he would have to refold. Just as he grabbed a cute blue polo, his phone started ringing. He could tell from the ring tone that it was Troye.

“Hey, Troye,” Tyler said cheerfully. “Excited for Italy?”

“So excited,” Troye replied. Tyler tossed the blue polo into the pile of clothes. “I was calling to ask you something actually.”

“About Italian guys?” Tyler teased. He flicked through his clothes again. To bring the leopard belt or not to bring the leopard belt?

“No, it's about Connor.”

“Oh.” Tyler paused. “Ask away.”

Troye took a deep breath. “I overheard the conversation you two had the last time we were together in LA. About him questioning his sexuality. I've been thinking about that a lot. We've gotten really close, and there are times when I wonder... I just want to know. Do you think—do you think Connor might _like_ me?” Troye's voice sounded shaky. “God, I sound like I'm in fourth grade, asking if someone _like likes_ me.”

Tyler didn't know how to reply. Because over the last few months, seeing everything he had seen, he had become sure that Connor did like Troye. Their twitter conversations were sickeningly adorable, they Skyped and texted all the time, Connor watched Troye's videos practically the second they came out. And the expression on his face while he watched them was almost too cute to handle.

But then he remembered the argument he'd had with Connor a while ago. He was still pretending, still lying to himself. Troye didn't deserve someone like that. But maybe, just maybe, Troye could help him. Perhaps he could help Connor come to terms with his conflicting feelings.

What should he tell Troye? Yes or no?

He told the truth. “I think he likes you, but he's scared. He's confused,” Tyler said. “You and me, we figured out that we were gay pretty early. Connor still isn't sure what he is, and that scares him. But I think he likes you. A lot.”

Troye let out a long held breath. “Wow. Okay.”

“Yeah.”

“So, do you think I should... We're going to all meet up in Italy pretty soon. What do you think I should I do?”

“Do you like him too?” Tyler didn't have to ask. He knew. He knew the second Troye's blue eyes turned starry, the second Connor looked him up and down like he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Of course. It was supposed to be this way.

“I think I've liked him forever,” Troye said, bitingly honest.

“I thought so. And I approve wholeheartedly. You know, I was one of the first Tronnor shippers.” Tyler just hoped Connor could get his shit together and admit it to himself. That was the only thing standing in their way.

“So, what should I do? Should I tell him? Or should I wait for him to do something? I'm really new at this.” Troye sounded nervous over the phone.

This was the moment Tyler had been waiting for—the chance to be a real matchmaker, to make this thing happen. “Well, here's my idea. I think you shouldn't say anything, but you should act like it. Stand closer than usual. Sit next to him. Look at him. Be adorable. I know Connor won't be able to resist. I think it's best if you let him act first—because then he won't be able to deny his feelings anymore.”

“You think that'll work? I'm not really a seductive person...”

“It'll work. Trust me.”

They both bade their goodbyes and then hung up the phone. Tyler glanced around his bedroom, the pile of Italy clothes littered across the floor. He couldn't wait to see where this whole thing went.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The action moves over to Italy! The sequence of events is not really accurate to the actual trip, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

 

**Troye**

 

Troye was beyond excited to be reunited with his friends later that week in Rome. He'd Skyped, texted, and tweeted Tyler and Connor nonstop between meetings, but he still couldn't help his exhilaration when they met up again at last in the Eternal City. When the two emerged through the glass sliding doors of the hotel, looking exhausted, Troye perked up immediately and hurried to greet them at the entrance.

“Hey, Troye boy,” Connor said. He drew him in for a tight hug. Troye felt his stomach flutter at the familiar nickname, and the touch. After what Tyler had told him over the phone, he wasn't sure if he could carry on a logical conversation in Connor's presence, but he had to hold it together.

He wondered briefly what Connor could see in him. After all, he was still the awkward, dorky Troye who wrote naïve, hopeful lyrics on his bedroom floor when he couldn't sleep at night. Sometimes he wrote lyrics to take the place of actual words, actual admissions. Instead he sandwiched his feelings between guitar chords and piano notes, where the message could be skewed and misinterpreted and re-attributed by whoever heard them.

He remembered one night in February where he had, jittery off a sugar high of discount Valentine's Day chocolates, actually sent Connor a song he had written specifically about him. A lot of his songs were introspective or about topics other than love and boys (topics which he had little experience with, anyway). But this one was all hopeless romantic, Troye fumbling over the feelings he bottled up and suppressed. Pure yearning and dreaming and, under all of that, pure desire.

He'd sat there, a ball of nerves, while Connor listened to it over Skype. Troye was certain he'd hate it, but the second the song finished, Connor gushed, “Wow, that's amazing. Like, seriously amazing. I love all your songs, but that one is the best. I really think so.” Even through the blur of the web cam, Troye could see he was genuine. And he had wondered, _Did Connor know? Could he tell the song was for him?_

Troye pushed the memory out of his mind. Dwelling on the past wouldn't help him get what he wanted in the future. “I've missed you guys so much,” he said, squeezing Connor in tight before giving Tyler a hug as well.

“Hey, what about us?” Alfie called from a few feet away. Troye had missed him and his signature laugh.

“You guys too!” Troye assured Alfie. Then he turned back to Tyler and Connor. “Isn't Italy beautiful?”

“Well, I've seen exactly nothing so far except an airport and a hotel lobby...” Connor said, teasingly.

“But you can feel it, can't you? You can feel how amazing and historic and beautiful this place is? How amazing our trip is going to be?” Troye tried to explain himself. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he had a good feeling.

“You're so excited, it's cute,” Connor said, touching Troye on the arm before letting his hand fall back to his side. Troye felt like his arm burned with the imprint of him.

“Aw, you two,” Tyler said, preening over them. “Well, I don't know about y'all, but that plane made me feel stank, so I'm gonna take a shower. Bye!” With that, he pulled on the handle of his oversized suitcase and made his way to the elevator, keycard in hand. Leaving them alone.

Connor and Troye watched him disappear down the hall. Troye wanted to hug all of the British crew who were also there for the Italian adventure, but he couldn't pull himself away from where he stood. “It's seriously been too long,” he said.

“I know,” Connor replied. “But now we're going to be around each other basically for over a week, so we can make up for it.”

When he talked, Troye's mind went blank. He didn't know how he would be able to take Tyler's advice. There was nothing subtly seductive about him. The way he was staring, he couldn't be more obvious.

Connor was still talking, something about his flight and the terrible airplane food, but Troye closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. If he wanted to be with Connor—and oh god, he did—then there was no place better than Rome to make it happen. All he had to do was play it cool. He could do this.

* * *

**Connor**

Connor didn't know what was coming over him. It might have been the way the the sunset reflected off the ancient streets of Rome or the way the Colosseum lit up in the evening light. Maybe it was something in the water, something in the air.

The whole crew didn't waste any time visiting the sights and strolling the alleys and avenues. They found delicious restaurants, tiny coffee shops, and bustling gelato carts. Ancient statues, bubbling fountains, and historic museums.

And with each meal they ate, each monument they visited, each hour that past, Connor found it increasingly difficult to deny one simple fact—he had a huge crush on Troye, and it was becoming impossible to ignore.

Months ago, his feelings for Troye had been one of the catalysts for him realizing he wasn't straight. Because straight guys would not have the feelings he had towards Troye. They wouldn't stare at him and wonder how it would feel to hold his hand, to wake up beside him. To hold him, to kiss him. They wouldn't live for seeing his face over Skype or through his videos. It soon became obvious that his feelings were far from platonic.

Connor had resisted his crush for months now for various reasons. There was the long distance between them from LA to Australia. He didn't want to ruin their friendship. And there was the fact that he still didn't know how to label himself, and he hadn't told his family, most of his friends, or his audience yet. Relationships between two popular YouTubers seemed to always reveal themselves one way or another. He definitely wasn't ready for everyone to know about them yet.

Anyway, there was no reason to believe Troye liked him back. For all Connor knew, he could be crushing on some guy halfway across the world.

But now they were looking for something good to eat for lunch. Joe pointed out a small cafe just a few blocks from their hotel, and they were rushing there now through the pounding rain. Connor had already lost his umbrella at one of the many sights they'd visited, and his hair was quickly becoming soaked with rain.

All of a sudden, Troye called out to him. “Hey, Connor! Wanna share?” He waved the black umbrella currently shielding him from the storm.

“Yeah, thanks,” Connor jogged the few steps to catch up to his friend and ducked beneath the umbrella. Accidentally, his hip tapped against Troye's, and Connor felt unwelcome butterflies in his stomach. He almost jumped away from Troye's side as they continued to walk towards the restaurant.

“You're still getting half-wet,” Troye said teasingly. Then he took his free hand and ran it down Connor's back until he touched his waist, and pulled him in closer beneath the umbrella. Connor felt a jolt run through his entire body, felt his breath catch. “There you go,” Troye said. Connor swore he saw a wicked smile cross the boy's lips, but it was gone before he could be sure he'd seen it.

From behind them, Louis raced up, tucking his vlogging camera under his arm. “Cute footage, you two. I didn't know you guys were together.”

“What?” Connor squeaked, surprised and terrified. What did Louis mean, cute footage?

“Oh, you know, just filming for my daily vlog,” Louis replied. “You two under the umbrella will be a perfect transition scene.” He paused for only a second before asking, “So when did you guys...”

“We're not together,” Troye said, dropping his hand from Connor's back.

“Oh, sorry, my mistake,” Louis said, sounding as if he didn't believe them. Then he waved as he jogged ahead to get some footage of the other boys. Was he ever not filming?

“Well, that was awkward,” Connor said once Louis was out of ear-shot.

“I know,” Troye said. Suddenly, the boy moved just slightly closer so that his lips brushed against Connor's ear as he whispered, “People might get the wrong idea.”

* * *

Their hands brushed. They ate off each others plates, shared snacks. They sat together at every restaurant. During one late night car ride, Connor woke up with his head on Troye's shoulder. Troye's hand had rested on the back of his head, tickling against his hair and brushing against his neck. The gesture, so simple, had felt like a shot of caffeine to his system.

He was going insane; he was sure of it.

* * *

**Troye**

Troye didn't know whether his attempts were working. He had taken Tyler's advice at dropping little hints toward Connor, and now he just had to wait and see how he would react. Troye took every opportunity to not-so-casually touch him, to share space with him. Sometimes he thought he saw something spark in Connor's eyes, but other times the boy jumped away from him so quickly that he couldn't tell whether he was embarrassed or simply uninterested.

Now, the whole crew was moving onto Florence to continue their holiday. They would have to stay in another hotel and get new rooms. Louis and Tyler were talking to the receptionist, who thankfully spoke English but in a very thick accent, while the others hung out in the lobby on the coaches. Troye watched Connor out of the corner of his eye. Finally, the rooms appeared to be booked as Louis and Tyler walked away from the front desk victoriously.

“Okay, there's just enough room for us, but the rooms are scattered across the hotel. Some are singles, some have double beds, some have two single beds,” Louis explained, fanning out the keys like a deck of cards in his hands.

“And I helped order the rooms, so I call a single!” Tyler announced, snatching one of the key cards from Louis.

Quickly, the boys clamored to get the rooms they wanted. Alfie and Marcus eventually agreed to take one of the two double bed rooms, while the others started snapping up the singles.

“Two other people are going to have to take the double bed room,” Louis said, waving around two key cards.

Troye glanced over at Connor and realized that this was exactly the sort of opportunity he had been hoping for. It was now or never. He jumped up from the slightly lumpy coach and said, “Connor and I will take it.”

Connor glanced up from his seat on the couch. His lip was caught between his teeth, and Troye tried not to stare. He couldn't read the other boy's expression. “We're comfortable with ourselves,” Troye continued. “It's not a big deal. It's just a bed.”

* * *

**Connor**

All Troye and Connor did in their room, 213, was drop off their suitcases on the floor and their jackets in the closet. The boys had already decided to commune in Alfie and Marcus's room that night to hang out. They barely spoke as they dropped their stuff in the room, but Connor managed to get a good look at the bed. Was it just him, or did it look smaller than the ones in America?

All the other boys were seated around the room when they arrived, sitting on the floor, the bed, or the chairs.

“Hey, guys,” Marcus said when they walked inside before he returned to his conversation with Joe and Alfie.

Troye and Connor took seats beside each other on the floor, a bit removed from the others. Connor was trying not to overthink the whole bed situation. Troye was right that sharing a bed was not a big deal: it was just something guys dramatized as being so horrible. It didn't mean anything. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He would be sleeping next to Troye, mere inches away.

He could barely walk beside him. How was he supposed to sleep next to him?

All of the other boys were having loud conversations that would surely garner complaints from the neighboring hotel guests. Tyler was fangirling over a cute bicyclist he saw in town, while the others discussed their vlogs and various other topics. Neither Troye or Connor had bothered filming most of the trip, both in need of breaks, so they had little to offer the conversation.

“I feel so out of it,” Troye said suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Connor asked, hugging his knees to his chest. He rested his chin on his arms.

“I just mean they're all having conversations, and for some reason, I feel like I'm not really here. Like I'm just observing. Do you ever feel like that?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

Troye glanced around at the scene around him. The other YouTubers seemed to have a lot more energy than they did, and they all engaged each other in rapt conversation. The two of them simply sat on the floor, away from the socializing. “I don't think they know we're here,” Troye whispered.

“I think we're invisible,” Connor whispered back. He didn't mean it as if they were being ignored—a part of him was glad that it was just him and Troye talking. Because sometimes you want to be the center of attention, and sometimes you don't. Sometimes you're content to only exist to one person.

“I'm glad,” Troye said quietly. “I like being alone with you.”

Connor felt his heart catch in his chest. Here, in the middle of everything, with his friends laughing and talking and shouting amongst each other, he felt more alone with Troye than he ever had before. It was almost funny. “We're not alone yet.” He paused. “I guess we will be tonight.”

After he said that, Troye looked straight at him, and he felt as if those blue eyes saw inside of him. Connor felt like he couldn't breathe. He didn't know if he could take it anymore—the pretending, the lying, the holding back.

“I can't wait to be alone with you,” Troye said, so softly that only he could hear.

That asshole knew what he was doing. He knew the way his face looked when he said that, the way his voice dipped low. He knew the kind of images Connor conjured in his head.

And with that, something broke inside of Connor. Whether it was the last remnants of his mask or the final bits of self-control he had, it was all gone now. He wasn't shy and fumbling and nervous anymore. He could no longer restrain himself. A confidence he hadn't felt before surged inside of him.

Within seconds, Connor was on his feet. He grabbed Troye by the arm, not forcefully but firmly. Tyler glanced up at the two of them for a second, but the look barely registered. Connor didn't notice anything but the two of them.

He all but dragged Troye into the hotel bathroom around the corner. At this point, he didn't care if any of the other boys noticed. He needed to talk to Troye, alone.

“Con, what's going on?” the other boy asked as the door clicked shut behind them. He looked so beautiful and strangely innocent, wide blue eyes and mussed brown hair. Connor realized he still had his hand fisted in Troye's gray t-shirt. He released his grip and took a step backwards, almost colliding with the sink in the bathroom. Everything was off-white and tiny—miniscule shower, small sink, low-pitched ceilings.

And the thing was, Connor knew exactly what he meant, what he wanted to explain to Troye. Except none of what he was feeling seemed to translate into words. He opened his mouth dumbly, wishing the right words would tumble out. They didn't.

“Is something wrong?” Troye seemed genuinely concerned. Like there was something wrong with him. Clearly he was acting insane, and Troye was concerned about it.

Connor swallowed hard. Out with it, then. “I want you,” he said finally, his voice low and raspy. His throat felt dry, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. This wasn't how he wanted it to go—the wrong words in a hotel bathroom. Troye deserved something better than that. He deserved more than inarticulate desire and sub-par location.

Troye stared at him, blue eyes growing impossibly wider. “You want...” He didn't know what to say in response. The words died on his tongue.

Taking a deep breath, Connor spoke the words he'd been holding in for months. “We're in Rome, practically the most beautiful, romantic city in the world... and I want you. This place is getting to me. If anyone else sits beside you at the restaurant, I get mad because I want to sit with you. I wanted to hold your hand while it rained and we shared an umbrella. I wanted to kiss you at the Colosseum, so we'd always remember it. I wanted to touch you the entire trip.”

Connor was bright red when he finished talking. Troye still stared at him, mouth hanging open. Quietly, he muttered, “Paris. Paris is the most romantic city.” Scattered like that was all Troye could think to say.

Connor kept talking. “I've been thinking about you a lot. I've been afraid to film a collab with you because I know how it will look. I know how I'll look at you.”

He glanced around the tiny bathroom nervously, eyes catching on the mirror where the two of them were reflected, standing so close together. “God, I really don't know what my plan was dragging you in here. I was being stupid, I'm just going to go...” Connor reached for the door knob.

“Don't you dare,” Troye interrupted. He stood firmly in front of the door, blocking the way with his body. He swallowed, his own nerves bubbling up to the surface. “Please, just... Kiss me first.”

Connor almost laughed but instead let out a sigh of relief. He had been so nervous that he wouldn't be reciprocated. All of a sudden, the tightly wound tension seemed to dissipate. A smile spread across his face. “You have no idea how much I've been dying to.”

And then, the moment he'd been picturing for what felt like ever was happening. Connor had pictured it happening countless times: on Tyler's omnipresent couch, in his own room back in LA, or at a flashy club. Never in a tiny bathroom in Italy. But that was where it happened.

Connor barely hesitated. He took the half-step to reach Troye, placed his right hand beneath the younger boy's chin and closed the distance between them. Troye's lips were full and soft against his, better than he'd ever imagined. Connor closed his eyes and leaned into him. Troye's knees seemed to buckle beneath him, his back softly pressing against the wooden door. Connor didn't stop, just placed his hands on Troye's hips, supporting him as they continued to kiss, gently and slowly.

A few seconds later, he pulled away. Troye's eyes fluttered open, like a Disney princess or something. This boy would be the death of him.

“Wow,” Troye breathed, staring up at him.

“Yeah,” Connor whispered. The two took a few seconds to breathe in tandem. “We should probably go out there. Before Tyler starts getting suspicious.”

“Tyler's already suspicious. He was born suspicious.”

Connor smiled and kissed Troye lightly on the cheek. “I want this to be our secret, just for a little bit at least. I want to pull you away in the middle of everything, be alone with you. I want everyone to think, but no one to know. Except for us.”

“Okay,” Troye said because there was no way he could refuse the green-eyed boy who leaned over him, lips red from kissing his own. He would agree to anything Connor suggested, if it meant he could touch him again.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Troye**

 

For the rest of their time in Marcus and Alfie's room, Troye and Connor could not keep their eyes off each other. They innocently kept their hands at their sides or in their laps, but anyone who paid attention would notice the way they looked at each other, a touch more familiar than they had been just an hour before.

Troye struggled to sit still and pay attention to the conversation going on around him. He felt high off the kiss, unable to focus or concentrate. Caspar was telling a funny story about something that happened earlier that day, but he barely heard what he said. When the other guys burst into laughter, he joined them without knowing what he was laughing at.

“Well, guys, it's 1 AM,” Marcus announced a while later. “And I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted after all that traveling. I think maybe we should wrap this thing up?”

“Boo, you whore,” Tyler whined, but then was betrayed by his own yawn. “But maybe you're right.”

Everyone seemed to agree that it was time to go to bed. One by one, the boys filed out of the room and went their various ways to their own. Troye and Connor slipped out last and headed to their hallway, which was quite removed from the others. Troye felt butterflies in his stomach the whole way. When they turned the corner and escaped the view of the other boys, Connor promptly slid his warm hand into his. Troye tried not to swoon and faint right there.

This was happening. It was real.

Troye slid the key card out of his pocket, and his hands shook as he pushed it into the lock. The light flashed green, and he opened the door for them to step inside. The door shut behind them with a solid click.

No sooner did the door fall closed than Connor grabbed Troye by the waist again, pulling him close. Troye felt like his heart beat fast as a rabbit's, stuttering and racing in his chest. He felt light-headed with hormones and happiness and exhaustion. His vision felt hazy and filtered, like it was all just a dream.

But it wasn't. He'd be awake by now if it was.

Before he could say anything, Connor pulled him in for a long kiss. It must have lasted longer than the one in the bathroom, but it felt as brief as the blink of an eye. “Connor, I...” Troye didn't know what he wanted to say. He just knew that this felt too good to ever stop, but he didn't know how to say something like that out loud.

“I'm done pretending, okay?” Connor said, pressing his forehead against his and looking him in the eyes. Their gazes locked. Somehow, this closeness felt even more intimate than the kissing had a moment before. Troye could have counted every one of Connor's eyelashes if he'd wanted to.

“You don't know how long I've been pretending I didn't want you, that I didn't want this. I can't do it anymore,” Connor said. Then gently, he took Troye by the hand and led him towards the bed, as innocently as if he was leading him onto the middle school dance floor. Troye sat down on the blankets, feather soft.

Connor stood in front of him at the foot of the bed. His hair was wilted from the day, his eyes looked sleepy. He was still beautiful. Without a word, he tugged his t-shirt over his head, revealing what seemed like acres of toned skin Troye had yet to see or touch. Desire bloomed in him, spread outwards from his core. It almost frightened him with how much he wanted this. Connor climbed over him, kissing him again while Troye laid back. His body sunk back into the heavy blankets, while Connor hovered mere centimeters above him. They stayed like that for a few more minutes, soft lips working each other open and breathless.

“Wait,” Troye whispered as Connor moved down to kiss his neck. His skin felt hypersensitive, every touch felt like a electric shock. “I've, uh, I've never...”

“Me either,” Connor said, voice tender. His breath was hot on his neck. “Not with a guy. But I just want to kiss you right now, okay?”

“So, why did you take off your shirt?” Troye asked. He still had his on, hiding his skinniness and paleness. He had never been very comfortable in his own skin, and being around someone like Connor only made his confidence worse. He couldn't compare.

But the way Connor looked at him made him feel already bare. And it made him feel wanted.

Connor pulled back a few inches and said, “Because I kept hiding from you, for months. I kept lying to you, and I feel terrible about it. Now, I don't want to hide anymore. I wanted you to see me. That's all.”

He lowered his head, and they kissed once more, mouths closed and almost chaste. When Connor drew away, he admitted, “I want to keep doing this forever. But I'm so tired I think I have stop before I pass out.”

“Me too,” Troye said. He was desperate to keep this going, he had waited so long, but he too was tired. And if he had it his way, they would have plenty of time to continue.

“Okay,” Connor said. He rolled to the side of Troye, and the sudden lack of him made Troye feel cold. Then Connor stood up off the bed and knelt down on the floor to open up his suitcase. He retrieved his pajamas from inside. “Until next time?” he asked, looking back at Troye, who still laid on his back in the exact same position he'd left him in.

“Yes,” Troye said, his eyelids almost too heavy to keep open. “Until the second I have enough energy to kiss you again. Until then.”

“So, it's a date,” Connor said softly.

And then Troye fell asleep.

* * *

**Connor**

Connor woke up on his stomach, legs tangled in the white sheets and his arm thrown across Troye's stomach. He peered at the sleeping boy through squinted eyes. The sunlight was almost inappropriately bright, judging for how early it felt like. It seemed like he'd just closed his eyes a second ago.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table—10:00. Shit. The boys would want to be eating breakfast soon, or would have already left. Connor stomach growled quietly. He couldn't miss breakfast.

Still, he laid there for a moment longer, looking across the rumpled bed at Troye. He looked younger and almost angelic as he slept, messy hair and pale skin and his mouth hanging slightly open. Scenes from last night played through Connor's mind. It seemed almost like a dream, kissing Troye, but he knew it happened. He wanted to know when it could happen again.

Just as he was planning an escape plan to leave the bed without waking Troye, there was a loud rapping at the door. Both he and Troye jolted up, alarmed by the sudden noise.

“Get up! It's time for breakfast!” shouted the familiar voice of Tyler through the door. “Damn, y'all are lazy.”

Connor glanced over at Troye, who was now sitting up and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He was the sort of image you could get used to waking up to. Connor leaned across the bed and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. Then taking advantage of the Troye's sudden waking, he said, “I call the shower first.”

“Damn it,” Troye said, laughing. He tugged at his wrinkled t-shirt and jeans and seemed to realize that he hadn't even bothered to put on pajamas last night.

Connor promptly jumped off the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved tee out of his suitcase. “That is, unless you care to join me,” he said, giving him a sarcastically seductive look.

Instead of giggling, Troye looked mildly terrified.

“Just kidding...” Connor said, heading for the bathroom. As he stood under the hot stream of water, he wondered what Troye was so afraid of.

* * *

Connor was so distracted by Troye that he couldn't tell whether they were fooling anyone. They still sat next to each other, still chatted casually, still shared an umbrella. They had done the same thing two days ago, only now it was immeasurably different. But none of the other boys seemed to notice.

The two trailed behind the group as they walked along the busy streets of Florence, sightseeing and exploring the city. Connor kept his hands shoved in his jacket pockets to keep from reaching out for Troye. He kept stealing glances at him, and more often that not, Troye was looking back.

While the group ate lunch at a small cafe, Troye nudged Connor with his knee and then said, “I'm gonna run to the bathroom quick.”

As soon as he got up, Connor jumped to his feet too. “Yeah, I'm gonna go too.” He leaped up to follow Troye.

As they walked away, he heard Alfie say, “They sound like Zoe and her girlfriends. They travel in packs, I tell you.” He ignored it. All that mattered was how they both stepped inside the single-person bathroom and kissed for however long they had before it got suspicious.

* * *

After a day of exploring various attractions around Florence, the crew headed back to the hotel around eleven o'clock. It wasn't too late, and some of the British boys headed to Alfie and Marcus's room again to chat. Tyler, Troye, and Connor were left in the lobby of the hotel, not feeling like hanging out that night.

Connor was about to head towards his and Troye's room when Tyler cleared his throat and stopped him by grabbing his arm. For such a small guy, there was something very commanding about Tyler's glare.

“Something's going on, isn't it?” Tyler said, hands on his hips. “And don't lie to me, I've seen what I've seen.”

Troye glanced over at Connor. He must have remembered what Connor said last night, about keeping their relationship secret for a while. But keeping a secret from Tyler Oakley was pretty much impossible. He knew he couldn't lie to his face.

“Yeah, I guess you could say something's going on,” Connor admitted. He couldn't explain it really, but he liked having his relationship with Troye be totally private—even if it had only stayed that way for one day.

Tyler paused for only a millisecond before smiling broadly and clapping his hands together. “I knew it. I knew this would happen. This is perfect.” Then he drew both of them into a group hug. Connor awkwardly shuffled forward into the hug, bumping his shoulder into Tyler's jaw. Still, uncomfortable as it was, he could feel the warmth and approval from his friend, and he was grateful.

When they all pulled apart, Tyler looked the two up and down and then patted them both on the shoulder. “Just, you know. Be safe. Be patient, it's not a race. Communicate. That kind of thing.” He sounded like a proud parent, and it was strange coming from the same guy that uploaded weekly Q and Slays.

“Thanks, Tyler,” Troye said. “I mean, I don't know if any of this could have happened without you. You introduced us and helped us out and everything.”

“Aw, it's nothing,” Tyler said, but it was obvious that he appreciated the compliment. Then he asked, “So, are you going to tell the other boys? And everyone else?”

Connor and Troye exchanged glances. “Um, we just kind of got together yesterday, so it's a little early to be telling the world,” Connor said. “But I think we'll tell the boys since we're all friends. Before we the end of the trip, definitely.”

Tyler nodded his approval before saying, “Well, I'll have you both know that I've got the entire crew shipping y'all, so they will be very supportive. But of course, whenever you're ready.”

* * *

**Troye**

Now that Tyler knew about him and Connor, Troye was torn between wanting to tell everyone—wanting to shout it from the rooftops—and wanting it to stay as quiet and private as possible. He wanted people to know that this was the guy who was making him so happy, making him smile when no one was looking. But at the same time, the thing between him and Connor was so green, so new. It felt delicate, like it was made of glass.

The Italy trip was winding down quickly. Tomorrow was their last full day, and then they would be flying back to England early the morning after that to spend some time with Zoe and their other friends. There was something almost frightening about the prospect of moving this relationship (or whatever it was) into another arena, another country. He felt like the slightest movement could shatter it.

The clock read 12:16, but it felt later. Troye was dressed in a comfy t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, and Connor wore a variation on the same idea. They were both sprawled out on the double bed, staring at the TV but not really paying attention to it. An Italian soap opera was playing and neither or them could understand a word.

As two main characters—a man and a woman who both had impossibly perfect hair—argued over something he couldn't comprehend, Connor reached across the bed and enclosed Troye's hand in his. Familiar butterflies crowded his stomach. He hoped it would never get old. He wanted things to always feel fresh and new, as exciting as the day they first kissed.

“I don't want to leave,” Troye admitted over the foreign argument playing out on screen. “I love it here.”

“Me too.” Connor squeezed his hand. “But I'm excited to go to England. I want to see Zoe. Also, I'm excited to eat food that isn't pasta or pizza or bread. I'm ready to move forward.”

Troye nodded. They watched the TV show for a minute longer before he flicked off the screen with the remote on the bedside table. Their reflections stared back at them in the black screen. He looked over at Connor. “I know this is all new, but I think we should tell the guys tomorrow. Knowing Tyler, he's probably dropped a hundred hints by now anyway. I think they should hear it from us.”

“You're right,” Connor said. “Okay. We tell them tomorrow.”

Troye was happy that Connor agreed, but he wondered what there even was to tell. They kissed three days ago and had continued to since then, but they hadn't even been on an official date. They weren't “boyfriends” yet. Basically, they decided they liked each other, and that was it.

Troye tried not to think about it. Instead he slid under the covers and flicked off the light. Connor did the same.

As he closed his eyes, he wondered if Connor knew the damage he'd done to Troye's sleep schedule. Laying beside him was almost too exciting, too new, for him to relax. Having his warm body just inches away, or pressed against his own, was not conducive to sleep. Troye laid there, eyes shut and their legs slightly tangled, and listened to Connor's breathing until he finally fell asleep.

* * *

**Connor**

Troye and Connor told the group about their relationship/thing/whatever-it-was at dinner the next day. They sat in a rather fancy, traditional restaurant for their final meal in Italy. The boys were laughing and drinking red wine out of slender glasses. A few patrons gave the loud tourists disapproving looks, but they were all too happy to give them much mind.

After they all ordered their food with sloppy Italian pronunciations, Connor nervously raised his glass. He could see the surface of the burgundy liquid shake with his trembling hand. “I, um, I think I have something to toast to,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the din of conversation.

Immediately, the heads of everyone at the table swiveled to face him. Connor swallowed at his nervousness and set his glass down again. His hand was shaking too much. Why was he so nervous?

“Something's happened while we've been here in Italy,” Connor began, unsure of where to begin. He glanced beside him to Troye. “It's all very new, but I really want you all to know because I consider you to be very good friends.”

Troye seemed to sense his nerves, and he joined the explanation. “A few days ago, Connor and I...” But then he trailed off then and looked quizzically at Connor, as if he wasn't sure how to define them.

“Well, Troye and I are dating, I guess,” Connor said. That about covered it, didn't it? “We're together now.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the boys burst into noise. Joe, Caspar, and Alfie clapped, Marcus said “congratulations,” Louis patted Troye on the shoulder, and Tyler just smiled. It was obvious they approved, and also obvious that most of them already knew.

“I'll be honest, I knew the second you two went to the bathroom together,” Alfie said.

“I knew once you shared the umbrella,” Louis added.

“We weren't even together then...” Troye said.

“I just think it's adorable,” said Marcus. “I've been waiting for it to happen for weeks now.”

Then the boys all raised their glasses in the air, and Tyler toasted, “To Connor and Troye. Tronnor!” They all clinked each other's glasses and took long sips of the sweet wine. At this point, half the restaurant was staring at them, but Connor found he didn't care. Telling his friends had lifted a weight off his shoulders. It felt good to share and tell people.

He tried not to think about telling his parents or his viewers. He wondered if his parents would be mad that he'd kept such a big secret from them for so long. He had no doubt that they'd accept him, but the prospect of having such a conversation still filled him with fear. It would change so many things, even if they acted like everything was the same.

But right now, he was in a beautiful country, eating delicious food among friends, and right beside him was the single person who made him the happiest he'd been in a while. He knew feelings like this never lasted, but he'd hang on as long as he could.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story moves to England, Zoe makes an appearance, and Troye and Connor get closer.

**Troye**

 

_“Troyeee!”_ squealed Zoe as she pulled open the door of her Brighton apartment. Troye had just arrived with Tyler and Connor from the airport after a quick two-hour flight from Florence. The three planned to spend the next couple days with Zoe in England. She had already planned out a fun day full of sightseeing for tomorrow, but today they just wanted to catch up and relax after their hectic trip to Italy.

Zoe pulled Troye into a tight hug before embracing the other two as well. She had her long hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a casual outfit perfect for lounging around her home. “Welcome to my apartment, everybody,” she said, leading them inside.

“Wow, it's beautiful,” Connor said, tugging his suitcase behind him.

“Let me show you the view!” cried Zoe, leading them towards the large window across the room. “And then I must show you my guinea pigs.”

The three boys dropped their suitcases and bags by the door and followed Zoe to the window. Bright sunlight streamed through, dappling the wood floor, and the view of the sea and the town was beautiful. They all admired the view for a bit, and Troye noted that it would make a wonderful Instagram picture—he couldn't help that his mind ran like a social media site sometimes.

Breaking the silence, Connor said, “So, Zoe, I guess Troye and I have something to tell you.” They had both agreed to tell her right away since they were her guests, and she ought to know.

Zoe looked away from the window and towards the two of them. “What is it?” she asked.

“Well, Troye and I are dating now. Just since Italy, but... it's a thing,” he said.

Instantly, Zoe's face lit up and she burst into giggles, though she tried to muffle the laughter with her hand. Finally, she admitted, “Oh, I was trying to be surprised! I'm sorry, but Alfie already told me yesterday. Did you want it to be a surprise?”

“It wasn't really supposed to be a surprise,” Troye said. “We just didn't think you knew yet.”

Tyler and Zoe looked at each other and smiled. “It's the cutest, isn't it?” Tyler said, patting both boys on the head.

“I know, just look at them!” Zoe cried. It looked like she wanted to pinch their cheeks or something. “Anyway, I made up one of the guest rooms for you two boys. I hope you like it.”

“Well, I love your apartment. I'm sure the room will be great,” Troye said.

“Aw, you're so sweet! And you haven't even met the guinea pigs yet!”

 

* * *

 

After petting Percy and Pippin for a bit, Zoe pointed out their room down the hall. “You can go unpack in there. Or whatever else you need to do.” There was a note of suggestion in her usually innocent voice. Jokingly, she winked at them, and they both blushed pink.

“Have fun,” Tyler said before walking down the hall to his own room.

Troye and Connor exchanged glances before rolling their suitcases to their room and shutting the door. They certainly weren't disappointed. It was a very nice-sized guest room for an apartment, and a large rectangular window let in plenty of sunlight. The whole room seemed airy and cheerful, decorated in pale colors. The bed was queen-sized and covered by a fluffy, cream-colored comforter, and there seemed to be far too many pillows piled atop it than any two people could actually use.

“Okay, I'm officially jealous of Zoe's life,” Connor said, studying the room. “I will probably never have an apartment this nice in my entire life.”

“At least not until you have five million subscribers,” Troye joked. He walked over to closet to hang up his jacket, and then started to unpack the essentials from his suitcase. Connor did the same.

Troye set down the book he was reading on the bedside table, and then pulled the drawer open to see whether there was anything inside.

He shouldn't have been surprised. Inside were at least a dozen packets of condoms and a post-it note with a winky face drawn on it. _Zoe._ Troye quickly closed the drawer, blushing in embarrassment, only to find Connor standing far closer to him than he had been a moment before.

Connor gently rested his hands on Troye's shoulders. He could feel the warmth of his touch through the cotton of his t-shirt, and it made him shudder. “So, do you think we should take Zoe's advice?” Connor whispered in his ear.

Troye frowned. “It just feels really weird in a guest room of a friend. Don't you think?”

“I don't know. We haven't tried it yet,” Connor said before turning Troye around and kissing him softly on the mouth. His lips tasted the same as always—hot with a hint of the coffee he always drank. When he pulled away a minute later, he admitted, “Okay, you may be right. This does feel kind of weird.”

“Doesn't it feel kind of... impolite?” Troye asked. “I feel like it's against general etiquette.”

“Well, I mean, Zoe is the one who left condoms in the drawer. But yeah, this feels weird.”

 

* * *

 

“How is making out in the bathroom any better?” Troye whispered while Connor kissed his way down his neck, dipping to the jut of his collarbone. Troye gritted his teeth together and tried not to make any noise, but it felt so good.

“Plenty worse things happen in the bathroom, so I figure making out is okay,” Connor explained. He moved his mouth back to Troye's, kissing him hard.

“But what if someone has to use it?” Troye asked against his lips.

“Then they can wait,” Connor said. He pushed his fingers into Troye's hair, ruffling it as he kissed him deeper. Troye tried to stifle a whimper, but he whined into the kiss. He felt his cheeks heat at the unwelcome sound. Connor pulled away just an inch and said, “No. I like the sounds you make.”

Troye blushed even redder at that. “I really don't think we should use the bathroom for these purposes.” For one thing, they made it impossible for the other people in the apartment. For another, it was directly between Tyler and Zoe's rooms. Plus, let's be honest, it was a bathroom.

“You're probably right. Like always.” Connor leaned in for one more kiss when they heard a sharp rap on the door. They both flinched and jumped apart in surprise.

“Are you guys in there or something?” Tyler demanded from the other side. “I really need to pee.”

“Sorry!” Connor called out. He kissed Troye one more time and then headed for the door.

He pulled it open only to find Tyler standing there with both hands on his hips and a knowing look on his face. He raised his eyebrows even further up his forehead. “Aren't you two just _inseparable?”_

Heads down, they both left the bathroom and headed back to their room.

 

* * *

 

“I really just want to know the whole story,” Zoe said.

It was dinner time now, and they had all chipped in and ordered a couple pizzas. Now they were seated in her living room, scarfing down the slices. Connor and Troye were squeezed beside each other in the loveseat, while Zoe and Tyler sat on the larger couch.

“Please tell me!” she begged. “I want to know the details. How you knew you liked each other, how you told each other... That kind of thing. I love hearing romantic stories.”

Troye and Connor glanced at each other. Once they'd gotten together, they themselves hadn't discussed their feelings very much. Troye didn't know when Connor started to change his thinking about him or how long he'd wanted to be with him. It was all very much a mystery to him.

“Well, I thought Connor was really cute from day one, obviously,” Troye began hesitantly. He'd never told anyone this story. “I guess I had a crush on him since then, but it started to get more serious once we became friends. I think around the beginning of the year was when I first, um, really decided I wanted to be with him. But of course, I still thought he was straight then.”

Connor seemed to flinch a little at the word “straight.” Troye tried not to wonder what that meant.

Then Connor explained his side of the story. “I mean, Troye is clearly, like, talented and sweet and gorgeous and amazing.” Troye felt his cheeks flush. Connor thought he was gorgeous? That kind of compliment felt like overkill. It couldn't possibly be true. “But for a long time, I was... Well, I was trying to convince myself that I only liked girls. Only I couldn't stop thinking about him, as much as I tried to deny it. Then around February, when we hung out in LA, I realized I couldn't pretend anymore. And that's the story.”

“Aw, that's so sweet!” Zoe said, clapping her hands together. “But when did you get together officially? How did that happen?”

“In Marcus and Alfie's hotel bathroom in Rome,” Troye said. He felt weird talking about this stuff. He liked having his relationships be private. Explaining it out loud made it seem trivial and less than it was.

“Y'all really have a thing for bathrooms,” Tyler said. Troye and Connor glared at him. “Oh, no, I'm not judging. I've had some of my finest moments in bathrooms. Whatever gets you off.”

This was what Troye meant—talking about what he had with Connor felt like their connection was being crushed into its smallest parts. It was new and undeveloped and shaky right now, but it filled him up, made him feel bigger than he was. The only people who can really understand a certain relationship are the ones who are in it.

“Don't be crude, Tyler,” Zoe chastised. “I think it sounds really lovely. Spontaneous things are the best, aren't they?”

 

* * *

 

It was late before Troye and Connor retired to their room. They'd all gossiped, watched TV, and ate more junk food for several hours after dinner. However, tomorrow they had to be awake pretty early to explore Brighton with Zoe, so it was time to wind down and get some rest.

But as the door to their bedroom fell shut, it was obvious that sleeping was not the first thing on Connor's mind. The air in the room felt static with desire, crackling with want.

And as Troye looked at him, he felt a desire bubble up inside of him. It pressed against his chest, his core, made his breath catch in his throat. He couldn't label it, couldn't accurately describe it. All he knew was he wanted this.

Connor's eyes passed over him, and Troye felt like his breathing halted all together. Connor took one long step, lightly grasped him by the wrist, and their eyes met. This time it was different, Troye could tell.

When Connor pushed him up against the bedroom wall, he realized that he'd wanted this, this right here, for longer than he wanted to admit. Connor fixed his gaze on him, asking if this was all right. Unable to speak, Troye only nodded. He felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Then Connor leaned forward the mere inches between them, and their lips met.

They'd kissed many times before this, but Troye could feel the change in this one, the urgency. Cautiously, Troye wrapped his arms around his neck, unsure quite what to do, while Connor's hands lingered on his waist. As they kissed, he became hyper-aware of every sensation.

He could feel each of Connor's fingers resting on his waist, eight lightly digging into his back and the thumbs pressed against his sides. The barest bits of stubble missed by his razor tickled his cheek as Connor drew his lips across Troye's. He was so warm, it reverberated off of him. Troye held him closer, pulling his arms tighter around his neck so they were flush from head to toe.

“I want you,” Connor whispered. His voice was serious, and desire prickled at Troye's body, spreading outwards. “I know we said it was weird being here in Zoe's guest room, but I don't know if I can wait for the location or the timing to be perfect. I just want you, okay?”

Troye felt his stomach tighten with nervousness and beneath that, equal parts of longing. “I want you too.”

Connor pressed his forehead against his, looked him right in the eyes. He was so close, there was no hiding. “Do you feel okay with this? Are you ready to do anything more?” he asked.

Troye nodded quickly. “I'm ready, I am.” He paused for a second. “But I just wanted to know, I guess, if you've ever done this before? Because I haven't.”

Connor shrugged. “I have, um, had sex with a girl before, but not a guy. And we don't have to do everything right now. We could always just...” He let his hand fall lower than where it sat on Troye's waist. Troye had to bite his lip to keep from moaning.

“It's all fine,” Connor said, kissing him lightly. “Whatever you want.”

“I think I want everything,” Troye said.

By everything he didn't just mean sex and all its variations. He wanted to do all the things the things he'd done or ever wanted to do in life but with Connor there. He wanted to visit the romantic cities of the world next to him. He wanted to sit across from him at his favorite restaurants, show him around his town. But all the things he wanted to do were impossible to vocalize—so everything would have to suffice.

“Well, if everything is what you want, I guess we should get started,” Connor said with a laugh.

 

* * *

 

**Connor**

 

They kissed for a few minutes more, pressed up against the wall. They kissed until he felt like he couldn't breathe, until his lips almost hurt. He took a step back from the wall, giving Troye some space. The other boy's eyes opened, staring at him like he was the sun or something.

Tentatively, Connor tugged his shirt off over his head, letting it fall to the floor. The cool air wafting in from the window hit his bare skin, making him shiver. He reached out for the hem of Troye's shirt, but Troye put his hands over his, stopping him. “What's wrong?” he asked. “Is this too fast or... ?”

Troye faked a smile and ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing's wrong, just you're... perfect and like a freaking model or something, and I'm just...” He tugged on the neck of his t-shirt and shook his head. “I'm just not.”

“No. Troye.” Connor reached out for his hand and drew him beside him. “Listen to me. You are probably the most beautiful person I've ever met. There is nothing you can do that would disappoint me right now, okay?”

Troye looked him in the eye, as if trying to tell whether he was lying. Finally, he relented. “Okay.” Slowly, he pulled his own shirt over his head, revealing milky smooth skin.

“See?” Connor said, tracing his hand over Troye's slender chest. “You're gorgeous.” And he meant it. He could tell that Troye was not as confident in his skin as he was, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell why. Everything he saw was beautiful.

 

* * *

 

Neither of the two was quite sure what they were supposed to be doing, but they caught the rhythm of each other effortlessly. Connor found himself longing to kiss every inch of skin he could find, trailing down Troye's shoulders and chest, the backs of his hands, and the base of his neck. Every touch felt more intimate than the last.

The down comforter was like a cave that shadowed and encased them both in a pocket of solitude. Underneath the blankets, it didn't matter whose house they were in, or what country they occupied. It was just the two of them, flowing together until they mixed into one.

Connor thought it would feel strange—doing this with a guy—but every sensation felt impossibly good. He wasn't sure whether they were doing it right; they felt spastic and desperate at some points—seeking and searching for what they needed.

In the end, when they collapsed on the bed beside each other, he wasn't even sure whether it counted as actual sex. It felt simpler, more innocent than that. Connor thought of it almost like a conversation—albeit a naked one. They took turns touching and kissing each other, discovering new bits of skin and new sensations. It was like getting to know Troye on the most familiar of levels.

And when they were tired and worn out and satisfied, they lay next to each other, wrapped up together, and stared out the darkened window, stars spattering the black and moonlight reflecting on the waves. He listened to Troye's breathing, heavy and fast, and rolled onto his side, pulling him in close.

“That was good, right?” Connor asked nervously, unsure of what the protocol was after something like that.

“It was perfect,” Troye whispered into the dark.

And he had to agree.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Troye**

 

“I guess what I'm really afraid of is change,” Connor admitted.

It was the next day, the sort of picturesque morning marked by sunlight streaming through the open window and slotting across the white sheets. Connor's hair was messy and unstyled, but Troye thought, as he set his head on his chest, that he'd never looked better. Tentatively, Troye drew his hand across Connor's bare waist and wished furiously that morning afters could always be this beautiful and peaceful and right.

He hoped he'd never have to wake up alone.

“What's so scary about change?” Troye asked. He said it softly because it was seven AM and Tyler and Zoe weren't yet awake. Softly, because the moment was delicate, spindly like a spiderweb, and it rattled with every sound and movement. Softly, because birds were chirping and the sun was shining and he was tangled in bed with a beautiful boy. And he couldn't let anything break what he had.

Connor didn't reply for a moment, thought it over. “I guess I like stability. That's what I was raised on—solid family, small town. When things start getting out of control, that's when I get nervous.”

Troye and Connor had had many wide-ranging, deeply honest conversations prior to when they kissed in Italy. They had discussed favorite songs, childhood memories, insecurities, everything. But this was probably the first time they'd talked so truthfully since then. After that night in Rome, it had all been feverish touches and searing gazes and fast, fast, fast.

This lazy morning in Brighton, they could finally slow down enough to talk.

Quietly, Troye asked, “So do I scare you?”

“What?” Connor raised an eyebrow.

Troye drew his arms tighter around his waist, holding onto him and trying to feel out how to approach the subject. “I'm change. I'm out of the blue, a sign of everything you never thought you'd do. I know that.”

“You don't scare me,” Connor said. Hesitated. “But maybe I scare myself a little bit.”

“Why?”

“No. Scare isn't the right word. I think I... disappoint myself. I wish I was braver, I guess. Like you.”

Troye felt his skin grow cold. He hated hearing Connor talk like this. He only wanted him to be happy, but it was evident he had numerous issues he had to work through. “I'm not all that brave,” Troye replied, swallowing at his dry throat.

“Of course you're brave. I mean, you told the world you were gay, and I can't even tell my own parents.”

But that was so wrong. Troye couldn't stand to have Connor think of himself like that. He drew back from Connor and sat up straight. Then he looked him right in the eyes and kissed him once, hard and determined.

“I want to tell you something, okay?” Troye said, his voice serious and level. “None of this is a race. I knew who I was early, and I told my family and my audience pretty quickly. But you are not cowardly if you aren't ready right this minute. So many people would press these feelings down and never acknowledge them, but you've accepted them, okay? That's brave. And when you tell your family and your friends and everyone else, you'll be even braver. But you have to wait until you're ready.”

Troye squeezed his hand in his, willing him to understand. “I'll be here for you until you're ready. You don't have to do anything until then. Okay?”

Connor blinked fast, as if fighting off tears, and held his gaze. After a moment, he whispered, “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”

Troye laid back down, and they turned into each other, huddling closer together beneath the blankets. He wanted to cherish the moment, stay in it as long as it could last, but his curiosity got the best of him.

“So... do you mean it? You think you're gay and not, like, bi or anything else? Or...”

He could feel Connor's body stiffen next to his, felt his muscles tighten up. Troye knew this was the kind of question that made Connor nervous, but he had to know the answer.

Deep down, he knew the answer didn't really matter. Whatever sexuality Connor considered himself, right now he was with Troye and that was all that was important. Still, there was a selfish part of Troye that feared seeing Connor with a girl. If he left him and dated someone else, it would hurt. But he knew seeing him with a girl would sting worse.

Finally, Connor replied, “I don't know. What I know is... I like you. I want to be with you, I'm attracted to you, I care about you. Everything else is confusing, but you're not. You, I can understand.”

It wasn't an answer, exactly, but somehow it was better. Troye felt a blush rise to his cheeks, felt his stomach flutter. He felt his heart swell in his chest, affection sweeping through his body. This was something, he could tell.

Then he dug his fingertips into Connor's side, pulling him tighter to him, just wanting to make sure he was still there, still real. Those words were ones he'd remember forever, replay over and over in his head. He couldn't recall the last time someone said something like that to him. Probably never.

There was nothing to say to an admission like that, so Troye slid his body up the bed a few inches until he was face to face with Connor. His expression was unbearably open, perfectly vulnerable. Troye kissed him like he'd never kissed anyone else.

 

* * *

**Tyler**

 

It was nighttime after a long day of sightseeing around Brighton with Zoe, Troye, and Connor. They'd paraded through shops and restaurants and then gone down to the windy pier, which had left Tyler's hair hopelessly out of whack. They had even took a few pictures in a photo booth, which were an adorable souvenir Tyler had stowed in his suitcase for when he got home.

Now he sat in Zoe's living room on the couch, feet propped up on a table and a bag of Cheetos in his lap. He and Zoe were watching some silly British romantic comedy that was being played on a 24-hour marathon on one of the movie channels. Troye and Connor had already retired to bed, which just made Tyler's inner fangirl cry with feelings.

“Literally, Tyler, I don't think I can compose myself. They are _too adorable._ I can't believe they only got together a few days ago,” Zoe cooed over the movie's cheesy score. They weren't really paying attention to the film, but they kept it on so the boys couldn't tell they were gossiping about them.

Tyler nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it, girl. I've been waiting on them to date for months now, and now that they are... My heart can't take it.” He fanned himself dramatically.

The two traded stories of cute things they'd seen over the day of sightseeing. Troye and Connor were almost inseparable, always sitting together and sharing private jokes. “And when they hold hands!” gushed Zoe. “It's like their hands fit together so perfectly.”

“They did hold onto each other a lot today,” Tyler noted. He paused for a second before adding, “But they practically jumped apart the second a camera pointed towards them. I get that they want to keep it under wraps while it's early, but...”

Zoe frowned slightly. “I think it's not just because their relationship is new. I think Connor still being in the closet is the much bigger factor.”

Tyler sighed. He loved Connor to bits, and he knew that coming out could be a frightening thing, but he hated seeing his friend hide who he was. He could tell how much it hurt him. “Yeah, you're right. If they revealed even the tiniest hint of their relationship it would be instantly GIFed and investigated. Never underestimate a fangirl.”

Zoe nodded, knowing the truth all too well. She and Alfie had hidden their relationship from their audience during the early stages, but many fans were convinced they were together long before they admitted to it. That was probably why Troye and Connor were so reluctant to do a collaboration. All of her videos early videos with Alfie were bombarded with shipping comments long before their relationship became public.

Tyler attempted to lighten the conversation. “But seriously, cutest couple of all time.”

“Definitely.” Zoe glanced back at the TV for a moment, then looked towards the closed door that led to Troye and Connor's room. “They're probably doing it right now, aren't they?” she whispered, giggling.

“I try not to think about that, Zoe. I can get a bit carried away.”

“Tyler!”

“Come on, can you blame me?”

A smirk crossed her lips. “No, I can't blame you at all.”

 

* * *

**Connor**

 

When the pent-up pressure within him broke, and when he felt pleasure race through him like a wave, it should not have surprised him that Troye was there. It seemed more and more like this was the boy his life revolved around, the person he found himself thinking about at all hours of the day.

Connor gritted his teeth together and felt his body relax, nearly collapse. He rolled off of Troye and onto his back, gasping for air. The coolness of the evening breeze through the window was such a sharp contrast to the heat, the fever of what they had just done. He threw his arms above his head on the pillow and just breathed, let his pulse slow down beat by beat.

Troye's breath seemed to stutter. Connor gently wiped a bead of sweat off his nose, then stroked his hand through Troye's wild hair. He felt the strangest satisfaction that he was the one to cause that. He was the reason Troye's cheeks burned pink, his breath caught, his hair laid askew around his head.

They laid there in near silence, just their heavy exhales to fill the silence. Neither of them said “I love you.” Something about that brought a knot of discomfort into Connor's stomach.

Because there was something inside him, something that drew him irretrievably towards Troye. He felt a deep affection and attraction to him. He cared for him. But calling it love... Right now he couldn't do it.

Because admitting that—admitting he had fallen for a boy—that was something he couldn't even comprehend doing. It made him feel scared. Saying that was the final admission that he was not the boy he pretended to be. And he couldn't do it.

In the darkness, Troye fitted his body beside his, arms drawn across his chest and his head tucked beneath his chin. Connor placed one hand on his neck, the other on the hand pressed against his hip. Troye slid one of his hands up his side until it laid against his heart.

“I can feel it beating,” Troye said with a laugh.

Connor just tugged him closer. If he could only turn his mind off, stop these whirring thoughts... Because this was everything he dreamed of feeling. He had always wanted a connection like this, but his worries were constant background noise to the happiness he wanted to be his focus.

There was so much that they could say, but Connor just turned onto his side and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

**Troye**

**A few weeks later**

 

Troye was home in Australia, busily putting the final touches together for his EP, _TRXYE._ It felt surreal to be finalizing the artwork and writing the dedications. The songs were already recorded, produced, and polished, and there was little to do but finish the CD's physical appearance and begin the marketing. He planned to announce the EP at Vidcon in a few weeks during the main-stage event.

He was very excited about the songs he was releasing. They all felt like a part of him and said exactly what he wanted to say. At this point, he could only cross his fingers that it would be a success—amongst both his subscribers and people who had never heard of him before.

But despite all the excitement, as he laid in bed with his laptop on his stomach and stared at a blank word document, he felt drained. The EP took a lot of work and energy over the past few months, and he was utterly worn out. So many people had helped him along the way so writing the dedications should have been easy, but it wasn't.

He started typing at last, listing off his producers and co-writers and backing band and sound mixers for all their great work. But then it came to the more personal dedications. Of course, he wrote about his family and their unconditional support since the very beginning. He thanked his subscribers and his oldest friends in Australia.

Then Troye thanked Tyler, who had listened to his very first completed song and unabashedly loved it. Tyler, who had introduced him to a much wider audience and had been a wonderful friend for the past two years. He thanked his other YouTube friends as well, careful not to miss anyone important.

For the very last dedication, he wrote: _And to Connor Franta, who has inspired me in more ways than he'll ever know._

He stared at the words. They were true, but they stuck out sitting there as the final line. Nervously, he copied and pasted it into the middle of a paragraph where the sentence could hide between the other thank yous. Finally, he wrote the sign off: _Thank you for giving me a chance. With love, Troye._

Because that's what everything was in his life. So many people had given him chances. People checked out his videos based on only a title and a thumbnail. Some of them subscribed. People had heard his demos and somehow decided to sign him, market him, listen to him.

He would never stop being grateful for that.

Troye saved his word document to edit and send along to his label the next day. He was about to shut his laptop and try to get some rest before tomorrow, a day he had carved out to spend some much needed time with his family. However, before he could close his computer, he got a Skype call, lighting up the screen. _Connor._

Troye glanced at the time on his screen. In Australia, it was just past midnight, which meant in LA it was... 9 AM yesterday. He'd done enough time zone converting between himself and his American friends (not to mention his music label) to know that LA was fifteen hours behind him.

What was so important to Skype at 9 AM? Did Connor even wake up that early normally? Troye knew he didn't get up until mid-afternoon when he had days off.

He was tired, but Troye wouldn't dream of ignoring Connor's Skype calls. The second Connor's face popped up on his screen, Troye had no regrets. “Hey, Con,” he said, trying to ignore the thumbnail of his own face on the screen. He looked worse for wear, his shirt wrinkled and his hair a fluffy mess.

“Hey, Troye boy.” Connor's smile was a wide and white, just as he remembered. Troye missed him like hell, and seeing him on Skype just reminded him of that fact. He wished he could see him in person, so that he could reach out and physically touch him.

It looked like Connor was in a hotel room, from the impossibly white pillows to the impersonal look of his surroundings. Currently, he was on tour with O2L, traveling around the United States and performing for their fans. He seemed to be having a good time, but he had confided in Troye a few weeks back that he was planning on leaving the group in the near future. It had been something he'd been considering for quite a while now, and Troye agreed it was probably the right decision.

“So, what's up? Where are you right now?” Troye asked. He slid down on the bed, trying to get comfortable. His conversations with Connor had a tendency to be three hours long.

“Atlanta, Georgia,” Connor said, affecting a southern accent. “It's great. Freaking hot though.”

“Oh, yeah, it's summer up there. Here down under, we have the heating on.” Troye was even wearing a sweater, something that would be unthinkable to someone in Georgia in June.

“And what about you? Things going well with _TRXYE?_ ”

Connor pronounced it “trixie” just to annoy him. Troye made a face at him. Most of his close friends knew quite a lot about the EP, but no one had heard it in full yet. He was keeping them in suspense for the time being. “Just putting the finishing touches together,” Troye replied. He let out a long breath. “It's crazy, you know? I used to just sing because I liked it, and now my music is all coming together so quickly. I can't believe I'll finally announce everything at Vidcon. That's like a month away. It's insane.”

Connor was smiling. “I love seeing you excited.”

Troye was perfectly content just talking with him, but he wondered whether there was a reason why Connor had called him in the first place. “So, why'd you call this morning-for-you-night-for-me?” he asked.

“I just miss you.” Troye was struck by the swiftness of his response. Still, it wasn't like he was surprised. He had seen Connor's tweets—they read like lovelorn, lonely diary entries. It still made his head spin that he had this affect over Connor.

“I miss you too. So much,” Troye said. “But we'll see each other soon. Vidcon starts in June.”

“I can hardly wait.” Connor glanced around the room, as if he wasn't alone. Troye heard another person's voice in the background. “Sorry, the guys want me to go get breakfast with them.”

“You'd better go, then.” Troye said, wishing he could be there with him.

Connor shifted on the bed, but before he signed off, he left Troye with one more declaration. “Listen, I know we have separate rooms booked for Vidcon, but I'm just letting you know that I have no intentions of sleeping anywhere but your bed.” Then Connor threw him a wink and ended the call without a proper goodbye, leaving Troye staring at his screen saver with his heart caught in his throat.

After a long moment of staring at the screen, he swallowed hard and shut down his laptop, then set it on his desk. As Troye crawled under the covers, he realized his heart was beating too fast for him to fall asleep anytime soon. Still, he closed his eyes, mind racing, and wondered how he was supposed to make it to the end of June alive.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Troye**

 

Vidcon arrived quickly, but not quickly enough. Troye had been separated from his friends for way too long. He'd Skyped them often, trying to fill the time between meetings, but it wasn't enough. He still felt unbearably lonely as he crawled into bed.

Of course, he missed Connor most of all. They talked and texted nonstop about anything and everything, but he longed to reach out and touch him, to close the 9000 mile gap between them. Why did he have to live on the other side of the world?

At last, it was nearing the end of June and Vidcon was due to start in less than a week. But first, it was time for the flights. First, there was a four-hour flight from Perth to Sydney. And then, the nearly fourteen-hour marathon from Sydney to Los Angeles. Troye stocked his carry-on with snacks, a book, and a notebook to record song ideas. Then he settled in for the miserable day of traveling that would leave him with the worst jetlag known to man.

As Troye sat on the plane, his butt hopelessly sore after sitting for hours, he started writing aimlessly in his notebook. The middle-aged woman beside him kept not-so-subtly looking over his shoulder at what he was writing, though he tried to ignore her. While the plane crossed the National Date Line, he began to ponder whether he was time-traveling into the past, but that just made his exhausted brain hurt.

When the plane finally landed at 7 AM Los Angeles time, Troye was well and truly out of it. He stopped at the airport bathroom before claiming his luggage, and wondered what it was about planes that made you look the worst you've ever looked. His hair looked greasy, he was sweaty, his clothes were wrinkled. Basically, he looked like crap.

There was no way he was going to let Connor see him like this. At least, not until he'd had a proper shower.

* * *

_I'm room 512. Come over when you get the chance. ;)_

That was the text from Connor that Troye woke up to after a two-hour power nap in his hotel room, 509, only a few doors down. Butterflies beat against his stomach, and a smile broke across his face. He couldn't believe that after all those weeks he was finally going to see him again. Troye rolled out of bed, still tired but at least refreshed, and headed for the bathroom mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, tidying it, and pulled on a clean shirt from his suitcase. Then he took a deep breath, staring at himself in the mirror, and headed for the door.

Troye walked the few steps down the hall to room 512, nervous for some reason he couldn't figure out. Of course he was happy and excited to see Connor, but a part of him wondered whether things would be the same between them, whether they'd fall back into the same routine. He crossed his fingers for luck, and rapped on the door three times.

Almost immediately, the door swung open to reveal the boy he'd spent weeks missing. Connor's grin was brighter than he remembered, and his hair was even more perfect. Troye felt himself breaking out into an equally wide smile. “Hey, Connor,” he said, elated.

But Connor didn't respond in kind. Instead, he tugged Troye inside the room by the front of his shirt, letting the door fall closed behind them. For a second they just looked at each other, eye to eye and holding their breaths. And then, without a word, Connor eliminated the half-step of space between them and kissed him hard on the mouth.

Troye may have forgotten a few things about Connor since they'd last seen each other, but this he remembered flawlessly. And he knew exactly what to do. Reaching his hand up to cup the back of his neck, Troye leaned in to deepen the kiss, but it was clear they both needed more than this.

Taking a step back, their lips separating with a slight sound, Troye pulled off his t-shirt and then reached for the hem of Connors, his fingers lightly brushing against the soft skin of his stomach. The shirt got stuck on his head for a second, breaking the tension with a bit of laughter, but then it was off and Troye could look at what he'd been missing for a month. He felt his body buzz with desire and nerves and euphoria, so grateful to finally be reunited that he couldn't form a coherent thought.

Then Connor pulled him into another searing kiss before they continued their dance, removing their clothes piece by piece, alternating until they stood naked in the front hall of the hotel room. Troye started to reach forward, but Connor's gaze darted towards the back of the room and the enormous window that let in bright rays of sunlight. “Shit, I'd better close the curtains,” he said with a laugh.

Awkwardly, Connor bent down and grabbed his shirt off the ground, hiding himself as he stumbled towards the window to pull the floor-length curtains closed. That really could have been awful, though at least they were on the fifth floor. Once they were shut, the room was left dark and shadowy, only a dim bedside lamp providing light.

Troye felt self-conscious just standing there, bare, in the hotel room, but Connor looked at him from across the room and said, “Just come here already.”

And those feelings evaporated under the press of hands and lips as he lay back on the bed underneath him. He closed his eyes and tried to memorize the sensations, unsure how many times they would be alone like this before they would be separated again.

“Come on,” Connor whispered. “You can participate too.”

Realizing that he was only lying there, copying memories into his brain rather than actually doing anything, Troye tangled his legs with Connor's before pushing upwards and rolling them over so he laid on top. Laying a soft kiss along his collarbone, he countered, “How's that then?”

“Great,” Connor said, sounding breathless. Troye couldn't help but to smile. And instead of worrying about how little they saw each other, he concentrated on making this time they had count. He concentrated on making sure Connor would be able to think of nothing but this for however many weeks they'd have to spend apart.

And as he bit kisses into Connor's neck, Troye thought that while being separated had been awful, there was nothing better than a proper reunion.

* * *

**Connor**

“Could you tell I missed you?” Connor asked as they laid in the afterglow. The sheets tangled around his feet, and Troye's hand was entwined with his.

“Well, the way you jumped on me certainly gave me that impression,” Troye replied, rolling his head to the side to meet his gaze. “Not that I'm complaining.”

“You were kind of all I could think about.” And it was the truth. Connor had been very busy since they were together in Italy and England—he'd been on tour with O2L, traveling all around America, and had recorded plenty of videos and taken countless photos. But at the forefront of his mind the entire time had been Troye.

He didn't know what to call their relationship. They'd been together for about a week before they'd been separated for months. He supposed it was a long-distance relationship, but they'd never even made what they had official. He'd never called Troye his boyfriend. They'd never been out to dinner or a movie just the two of them, so they weren't exactly dating either. They'd slept together a few times, so were they friends with benefits? No, that term sounded awful to Connor—it was so much more than that.

All he knew was—whatever they were—they were a secret. His deepest secret, that only his closest friends knew.

Because if people knew about him and Troye it would reveal not only a relationship, but also the fact that Connor wasn't straight. For some reason, he couldn't let people in on that. It felt too private, too scary. He wasn't sure what to do.

“I've thought about you a lot, too,” Troye said. “And I'm glad we get to spend Vidcon together. It's gonna be fun.”

“Yeah, really fun.”

He didn't sound enthusiastic, but he was excited. Obviously, he had missed Troye but he missed all his other friends too. Vidcon was the one place where all the groups he flitted between came together. It was a jam-packed, stressful affair, but also an incredible few days.

“Do you want to go walk around? We could see if we can find Tyler or the Brits,” Troye suggested. “It's a beautiful day outside.”

“Okay,” Connor agreed.

* * *

**Troye**

After getting dressed, Connor and Troye set off on their mission. As they wandered around the hotel and the courtyard, searching for their friends, they also ran across a few subscribers and happily took pictures with them. Their meet-ups were bound to be rushed and busy, so it was nice to meet a few people one-on-one.

“You're both so cute in person,” gushed one teenage girl after her friend snapped a picture of the three of them. “I love both your videos.”

“Well, thank you so much for watching me ramble in my bedroom every week,” Connor replied. The girl seemed to be in disbelief that she was meeting them, unable to stop smiling.

“Can I have a hug?” she asked shyly.

“Of course,” Troye said, opening his arms.

When the girl and her friend left, both giggling as they went, Troye and Connor turned to each other. “It's surreal, isn't it?” Connor said. “That people are so excited to meet us when we're only... you know. Guys who film four-minute videos about random shit.”

“I know, it's crazy.” The two started heading back to the hotel. Tyler and Korey should have arrived by now, and they wanted to meet up before dinner. As they walked, Troye reached across the the few inches between them, taking Connor's hand in his.

Immediately, Connor froze. He pulled his hand away, shooting Troye a look. It looked like he'd been burned. He stood there, biting his lip and not moving for a long moment. Troye felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath them, like his heart was caught in his throat. In the silence, he felt as if Connor was ashamed of him. His expression was telling, and it hurt.

“We're... we're in public,” Connor said finally. Shaking his head, he started walking again, but Troye stood in place a few steps behind. His cheeks burned.

“Well, excuse me for thinking we were something,” he muttered to himself. Connor didn't answer him. He acted like he didn't hear.

* * *

**Connor**

Connor felt like such a jerk. He couldn't believe he'd spoken or acted towards Troye like that. It was an awful thing to do, and he knew it. You don't kiss a guy against the wall the second you see him, touch him everywhere you can, whisper wicked things into his skin—and then refuse to hold his hand in public.

Troye was a light, a nineteen-year-old boy who deserved all the love and respect in the world. Connor was using him and hiding him. There was no denying that. And worst of all, he couldn't stop.

When they stepped inside the elevator of the hotel, riding up to the fifth floor, Connor whispered, “I'm sorry.” The words echoed around them, and he knew that wasn't enough.

“It's fine,” Troye said, voice hard. “I should have known better.”

Connor wanted to kiss him and tell him he was wrong. He wanted to tell him that they could do whatever they wanted in public; they didn't have to be a secret. But if he said that it would be a lie. So he said nothing.

The elevator dinged when it stopped on the fifth floor, and they stepped outside wordlessly. The tension hung heavy as the doors of the elevator slid shut behind them. Connor's phone vibrated in his pocket—another text from Tyler asking them to meet him. His room was right around the corner.

“Um, Tyler wants to see us,” Connor said, unable to make eye contact. “Should we...?”

“Might as well,” Troye replied. There wasn't anything better to do, so they knocked on his door. It only went unanswered for a second.

“Well, if it isn't my OTP,” Tyler said as he pulled open the entry to his room. His hair was dyed mint green, and the smile on his face was almost comically wide. He also seemed blissfully unaware of the tension between the two, and he welcomed them inside cheerfully. Korey was already there, laying on one of the beds with his phone and a bag of chips.

“Here's to Vidcon 2014!” Tyler cried, spinning around in the room with his arms outstretched. Connor couldn't help but to grin at his joy. It was hard to stay unhappy when you were in the same room as Tyler Oakley.

“By the way, I have some delightful vodka in case you want to pre-game before Olive Garden with the gang.” Tyler drew out the bottle, the clear liquid sloshing around inside it.

Alcohol was as good an idea as any, Connor supposed. Both agreed, and they combined a few shots mixed with Coke with pleasant conversation. After about twenty minutes, the alcohol had its desired effect. He and Troye laid on the couch, leaning against one another while Tyler and Korey caught them up on some Vidcon gossip. Since Tyler was hosting the opening show, he knew all the details.

“And if that wasn't enough, I'll be vlogging the whole thing for the viewers at home,” Tyler finished. He flopped backwards on the couch, as if he was worn out just thinking about it. Connor had to admire his energy and dedication.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Troye joked. All those meet-ups sounded exhausting.

“No. But Vidcon only comes once a year, so I figure I should make it count. You know, that's what it's all about.” Tyler downed another gulp of his vodka and Coke cocktail, grimacing a little on the aftertaste. “I can sleep later.”

“I'm impressed,” Connor said. He had quite a few events and meet-ups to go to, but that was nothing compared to Tyler's schedule.

“You flatter me,” Tyler said, though he obviously enjoyed the attention. After a beat of silence, he changed the subject. “So, are you two happy to be reunited?”

Connor knew they weren't quite okay after he'd refused to hold Troye's hand just an hour earlier, but the buzz of alcohol had smoothed the edges of their argument. “I'm beyond happy. I missed this kid,” he said, ruffling Troye's hair.

Troye batted his hand away. “It's great,” he said, but not quite as enthusiastic.

Tyler narrowed his eyebrows, sensing something was up. “You guys, is something wrong?”

“We're fine,” Troye said flatly.

“Fine?” Korey cut in, looking up from his iPhone. “No, no, no, the word fine is a red alert. Fine never means _fine_.”

Connor just wanted to make things okay between them. He regretted what he did—it was rude and he knew it. “Listen, Troye, I promise I'll make it up to you,” he said, sliding his arm around Troye's shoulders and squeezing him close.

“'Make it up to you?'” Korey said with a wink. “I think we know what that means.” All three of them shot him a glare. “Jeez, sorry for saying what we're all thinking.”

“Okay, I accept your apology,” Troye finally said. He let out a heavy exhale and shook his head back and forth. “Just, I guess, don't do it again?”

“I won't. I promise.” Connor leaned in and kissed him lightly on the temple. Silently, he swore to himself that he wouldn't make Troye feel that way again. Only, he didn't know if he would be able to.

After a few seconds of silence, Tyler said, “Growing pains. Every relationship has them, and it's especially difficult if you've been apart for a while. Tiffs happen, and that's okay.”

“We're okay,” Connor said, hoping desperately that it was true.

* * *

**The Next Day**

Connor collapsed on his bed after an exhausting first day of Vidcon. All he wanted to do was check up on his social media and then get some much needed rest. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started going through his various sites. Just as he was scrolling through his Twitter feed, he got a text from Troye.

_I got pulled into a little unofficial meet-up. Mind if I stop by your room when I'm done?_

Connor grinned at his phone, probably looking like an idiot deriving such joy from one text message. He wrote back, _Of course, stop by. And then stay._

 _If you say so,_ Troye texted.

Smiling, Connor closed his messages and moved onto YouTube. He noticed that a few of his friends had already uploaded vlogs of the first day of Vidcon. They were really on top of things. He started watching Tyler's while he waited for Troye to arrive.

But scrolling through the video's comments, he noticed a new trend in the conversation. There were the usual “I love you, you're flawless, Tyler” comments, as well as a couple of hate remarks. Like always, the Troyler shippers came out to play. The one thing that was different was he started to notice a few comments about Troye and _himself._

“Aw, look at the way Troye and Connor look at each other.”

“Is it just me or would Troye and Connor make a really cute couple? #tronnor.”

“Is Connor gay? Because he keeps looking at Troye...”

He felt sick to his stomach. Sure, it was only a few meaningless comments on Tyler's vlog, but people were starting to catch on. Were they that obvious? Then he clicked on Zoe's vlog, but when he scrolled down he again noticed the same type of comments.

Shaking his head, Connor got up from the bed. His legs wobbled beneath him as he crossed the room towards an outlet far removed from the bed so he wouldn't be tempted to keep looking up comments about him and Troye. He plugged it in to charge and tried to walk away. If he kept looking at the screen, he might go crazy.

That was when he heard a knock at the door in a quick rhythmic pattern. It had to be Troye. Connor squeezed his eyes shut, took a few deep breaths. He couldn't let the unsettling comments hurt what he actually had with him. After he calmed his thoughts for a moment, he stepped towards the door and pulled it open.

When he saw Troye, he felt that familiar swell of affection beating against his chest. He shuffled backwards so Troye could come inside. “Hey,” Connor said, playing like everything was normal. It really wasn't a big deal, only a couple random commenters on the Internet.

“Hey,” Troye replied. “Well, first day of Vidcon down. How'd your day go?”

“Great. Everything went according to plan, you know.” He couldn't help that he knotted his hands together, leaned unsteadily against the wall.

Troye squinted at him. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing's wrong.”

He didn't believe him, of course, but he changed the subject. “I think tomorrow night I'll invite some of our friends to listen to my EP. It's all recorded and saved on my laptop, and I just want you all to hear it.”

Connor smiled. “Wow, that's amazing. I've been dying to hear it. I'm sure it will be great.”

Troye blushed a little. “I'm really proud of it. I just hope you guys like it too.”

“I know I will.” Connor pulled him into a tight hug, feeling the warmth of his body against his chest. “You're incredible and talented, and if it's like any of the songs I've heard before, then I know it will be amazing.”

“Thank you,” Troye whispered into his shoulder, tucking his head there. For a few beats, they breathed together. “You know, I thanked you up on stage when I announced TRXYE, but I wanted you to know in private too. Your friendship and... everything else has meant so much, and I don't know if I could—”

When Connor cut him off with a kiss, he couldn't tell whether it was because he couldn't restrain himself from kissing him any longer—or if it was because he couldn't bear to hear Troye speak so kindly of him when he couldn't possibly deserve it.

“When you hear it,” Troye said breathlessly, still wrapped in his arms, “you'll know which songs are for you. You'll know.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Troye**

It was June 27  th , the end of the second day of Vidcon, and it was time for Troye to finally reveal his TRXYE to his friends. Though he was excited to see their reactions, he was also nervous to show them such of a big part of him. He was hanging out in Zoe and Alfie's hotel room, his laptop balanced on his lap while he fumbled to play the audio of his EP. Connor sat next to him, arm around his shoulder.

“I'm so excited!” Zoe gushed. “It's going to be absolutely amazing, Troye.”

“It's about time I get to hear this,” Tyler added. “Seeing as every song was inspired by me.” He flipped his mint green hair and grinned.

Finally, Troye's computer loaded and the first song “Happy Little Pill” started to play. Immediately, all the girls began to squeal with joy, and Connor held him close as the electronic synths of the intro began to play. Once his voice came over the speakers, everyone got even more excited, but Troye just blushed while his stomach clenched with nerves. It was always a risk sharing something so personal with people. He knew they would support him and say they loved it (even if they didn't), but it was hard to be in the same room while they sat there, judging him.

Okay, they weren't really judging him, but it felt that way. “Oh my god, I can't be in here,” he said, partly joking and partly honest.

“Aw, Troye, stay! It sounds amazing,” Zoe cried as he stumbled towards the door, almost tripping over his feet as he went. Connor reached out for him, but he was practically gone already.

“No, no, it's okay,” Troye insisted. He stepped into the hallway and let the door fall shut behind him before he slid down the wall to sit on the floor, knees tugged to his chest. This was happening. This was his life. It didn't feel real. He pinched the skin on the inside of his elbow, and it stung. Yeah, this was real life.

After about ten minutes of deep breaths and calming thoughts, Troye built up the courage to re-enter the room. Everyone was still listening to his EP intently, now on the third track “Fun.” Niomi and Marcus were dancing together to the beat, and some of the others had their hands raised above their heads, swaying and jamming. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

“This is incredible, Troye!” Marcus said, spinning his girlfriend around while the chorus began again.

“You had no reason to be nervous,” Alfie added. “We all love it.”

Troye sat down next to Connor again. “Thanks, everyone.” He listened to the song play over the speakers of his laptop and remembered what made him so proud of it in the first place. Before long, “Fun” ended and his most personal track began to play—"Gasoline.” It wasn't a song made for dancing, but his friends sat there, quietly, and listened until the final notes played and faded into silence.

“Wow,” said Tyler. “All I can say is wow.”

Troye's others friends offered similar praises and support, all sounding entirely genuine. He almost couldn't believe they all loved his music so much. He felt like his heart would explode from all the love.

Then Connor looked him in the eyes, kissed him softly, (He heard his friends “aw” in the background.) and whispered, “Thank you.”

He knew what for. His lyrics weren't mysterious or vague. If Connor had listened closely, he would be able to tell which songs were dedicated to him. And listening to those songs, he would be able to read every one of Troye's emotions like a book. He would know just how much he cared for him.

It should have been scary to open up like that—to leave himself vulnerable and bare. But instead it felt like a relief. Because this was what it was, what he felt, and now Connor knew. He could do what he would with the knowledge now that he knew his heart.

Troye slid his hand into Connor's and squeezed it firmly. “You're—you're welcome, I guess,” he said awkwardly. He didn't feel like Connor had to thank him for writing songs about him. Songwriters took inspiration from their lives, and he was a big part of his life. “You're welcome” didn't sound quite right. If Connor wasn't so important to him, he never would have inspired a song—Troye should have been thanking him.

“It was wonderful, Troye,” Tanya cooed, walking up to him a moment later. “I think 'Touch' was my favorite, but I'll have to listen to it again.”

“Thanks, Tanya,” Troye replied. “You'll just have to buy it on iTunes in a bit.” He winked at her.

“Of course I'll buy it!” she cried. She looked over at Connor then. “Was the song about you, Connor?”

From beside Troye, he blushed. “I don't know. Maybe?”

“It is,” Troye said. There was no reason to not admit it.

Tanya clapped her hands together and smiled. “Aw, I just love you two. I can't wait to buy it, Troye!” Then she patted him on the shoulder before walking back towards the rest of the Brits.

As soon as she left, Tyler plopped down on the bed next to Connor. “It's amazing,” he announced. “I will promote TRXYE to hell and back.”

“Thanks, Ty. Force all your subscribers to buy it.”

“I'll make sure of it.” Tyler looked over the two of them, still holding hands beside each other. “So, are you two having a nice time? Better than yesterday?”

“We made up,” Connor said, not offering much explanation. Troye didn't blame him; he certainly didn't want to dwell on the previous day's argument. Still, it made him a bit uneasy that their relationship was being kept totally private despite everything.

“Good, good,” Tyler said, but he looked a little concerned. He seemed to argue with himself about whether to say something, but finally he blurted out, “You know, people are starting to pick up on hints about you two...”

“What do you mean?” Troye asked, confused. “Me and Connor?” He hadn't heard anything about this, though he admittedly hadn't spent much time to stalking the Internet the past few days.

“On my latest vlog, I saw a lot of comments about the two of you maybe being a couple. People are starting to suspect something's going on.” Tyler paused before adding, “I know you want this relationship to be on your terms, but secrets are never kept for long. I'm just letting you know.”

The fact was, Troye wanted their relationship to be public. He wanted to tell his parents and his friends. Maybe he didn't want his subscribers to know every detail about their relationship, but he also didn't want to have to work so hard hiding it from the camera. He didn't want to have to worry about whether his actions would threaten Connor's secret—a secret that he frankly didn't think should have been kept this long.

Of course, he didn't want to rush Connor if he wasn't ready to come out. But more and more, he wondered whether Connor would _ever_ be ready. Or if he was just keeping his sexuality and their relationship a secret for his own convenience.

“Thanks for telling us,” Troye said, wondering what to do. If they did tell their audiences, it would be a very big deal. They'd have to go about it carefully.

“I already knew,” said Connor. “I saw some of the comments.”

Troye raised an eyebrow at him. Was that the reason he'd seemed so distant last night? “What are you thinking, Con?”

Connor bit his lip, didn't say anything for a long moment. “I mean, I'd like to keep doing what we're doing. I like us the way we are, and we don't owe people anything. This is between us.”

“Yeah, of course,” Tyler cut in. “This is a private matter, but people are always going to wonder what's happening between you. It worked out fine for Alfie and Zoe, and I really think—”

“Tyler, it doesn't matter what you think,” Connor snapped, then seemed to regret it. His voice instantly softened. “I'm sorry, but this isn't your life. You know that I... I haven't even told my parents, okay? I can't be thinking about making a freaking Boyfriend Tag.”

“Babe, you don't have to get mad,” Tyler said. “I'm just trying to be a friend.”

That was when Troye looked down and realized he and Connor were still holding hands, except his hand blanched white from Connor's vise-like grip. He slid his hand out and said, “We don't have to argue. I just wanted tonight to be fun.” He knew there were issues that needed to be addressed, but tonight they were in the company of friends they barely got to see. He didn't want to spend this time fighting.

Connor shook his head. “Damn it, I'm sorry. I'm ruining everything. I keep flying off the handle, and I can't stop it. I'm not like this.”

“No, don't worry about it. I told you that until you're ready, I can wait.” As he said those words, Troye wondered if this was a one-way street, and it would be all he'd ever have. He didn't want it to be like that.

“Thank you,” Connor whispered. At least he looked apologetic.

Their other friends kept sending concerned glances their way, sensing things weren't exactly sunny. Tanya frowned as she glanced between the two of them.

Then Tyler took a deep breath and seemed to decide that this wasn't his battle. Instead, he decided his job was to bring a little life into the party. “You know, I did sneak that bottle of vodka into my bag.” He pulled it out, still mostly full. “If we really wanted to get this party going.”

* * *

**Connor**

After dancing like animals to Beyonce, playing a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity, and then listening to Troye's EP again, it was late in the night. Tyler's donation of alcohol had injected some energy into the party, and now Troye and Connor headed towards their rooms to sleep the buzz off and rest for tomorrow. They'd drunk a fair amount, but not enough for a bad hangover.

Connor held onto Troye waist as if to keep his balance, though he wasn't actually that drunk—he just wanted to be close to him. All the arguments and drama between them were secondary to his true feelings. They made their way down the hall and into the room that was registered to Connor, though they both slept in it each night. The darkness, the quietness of the room shot straight to Connor's head, made him feel bold.

Troye led him towards the bed, where Connor plopped down so he was level with his chest. He worried at his lip, glanced upwards at Troye through his lashes in a way he hoped was seductive. “What do you say we do things a little different tonight?”

Raising an eyebrow, Troye asked, “Different how?” He sounded skeptical.

Connor took a deep breath. He couldn't really explain why, maybe it was the alcohol, but in the pit of his stomach he knew he wanted to try it. Reaching out for Troye's arms, he laid backwards and pulled Troye down on top of him. Their legs stuck out from the end of the bed, and Troye's elbow accidentally jabbed him in the side.

“Smooth, Connor,” Troye said, giggling. He wiggled around, trying to move so he wasn't crushing him.

Ignoring their awkward positioning, Connor said, “I wanna try it like this.” The room was dark and shadowy, and they were barely touching, but Connor could sense Troye blushing from above him. He reached up to his face, stroked his thumb across his heated skin. “You know what I mean?”

Troye let out a burst of shocked laughter. “Yeah, Con, I'm not stupid.” He fidgeted in place, looked nervous. “You want me to, um...”

“Fuck me.”

Troye blushed even redder at that, and Connor too felt a course of embarrassment run through him. He wasn't usually this direct. But at the same time, this was what he wanted, so he'd have to ask for it. He bit his lip, dug for some more daring inside of him. “You can pretend you're the famous pop star, and I'm the desperate fan.” He rocked his hips just slightly underneath Troye in a way he hoped was enticing. The way Troye muffled a moan proved that it worked.

“C'mon,” Connor whispered, pulling Troye down into a kiss. It took only a second for their lips to move in synchronicity, for him to know his plan was going to work.

When Troye pulled away, his blue eyes glittering in the dark, he asked, “Are you sure? I mean, it can hurt a little.”

“But you like it, right?” Connor didn't have to see to know Troye was blushing furiously.

“Yeah, but I've never tried it this way either, so it might be awful. It probably will be awful.”

“C'mon, Troye, I'm your biggest fan,” Connor said in a voice not quite his own.

Troye rolled off of him, but not to stop. He walked over to Connor's suitcase, which held the supplies they would need. “Okay, we'll try it. But I'm not fucking role-playing. This is about you and me, all right?”

“You and me,” Connor repeated.

* * *

Troye was right that it did feel uncomfortable at first, but by the end, Connor decided this was the kind of thing he could do again. Maybe a lot of times. He gripped the back of the headboard, beads of sweat running down his forehead as he tried to catch his breath.

“That was good,” he said breathlessly. “Damn it, I really like guys, don't I?” He still felt sort of drunk, and his words weren't quite making sense.

Troye looked confused. “It was okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was good.” Connor moved to sit up beside him, leaning against the headboard. “You know something weird?”

“What?”

“We've never... Well, we've done a lot together, and we care about each other, but we've never really called ourselves anything. You know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Troye, I want to be your boyfriend. I want you to be my boyfriend. I think we already are, in the sense of the word, but I want it to be official.” Connor took a deep breath, took Troye's hand in his. “Because I really care about you. So, will you?”

A shy smile appeared on Troye's face. It looked more like relief than anything else. “Okay. Yes. I'll be your boyfriend.”

“Good.” Connor leaned across the bed to kiss his softly on the lips. “I'm glad.”

* * *

**Troye**

But would it change anything?

That was what Troye wondered as he fell asleep. It did make him feel better now that they'd made it official. Whenever he talked about Connor to his friends that knew, he wasn't sure what to refer to him as. But now they were boyfriends, and that sounded good to him. If not a little juvenile.

When they woke up the next morning, things went as they had the two mornings previously. Troye headed back to his own room to shower, change, and get ready. Then they met up with Tyler, Korey, and whoever else was awake to get breakfast and prepare for the day.

Troye joined his friends at the table for four in the Hilton lobby. There was a continental breakfast at the hotel, and he had picked out an apple, chocolate chip muffin, and some mediocre tea. Connor was skimming over a USA Today newspaper while Tyler and Korey chatted.

Once Troye seated himself, Korey glanced over at Connor and him and teased, “You two are really glowing today.”

Tyler gave them a look and seemed to agree with Korey's statement. “I'm not glowing. I'm just kind of hungover,” Tyler said somewhat bitterly. “I'll be okay though. I have a busy day ahead. Signings and everything else.”

“Well, it's almost over,” Connor said. “I guess we all have to savor it.”

And then all of a sudden, a wicked smile crossed Tyler's face. “By the way,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I saw a very mysterious tweet this morning from you, Connor.” He cleared his throat and quoted, “'Woke up cuddling a pillow so ridiculously hard. Idk about you guys but I think we're cute af and have a very bright future together.”

Tyler looked directly at Connor, still smiling. “That wasn't a pillow you woke up cuddling, babe, was it?”

Connor blushed. “Okay, it was a thinly veiled reference to Troye, yes. But my followers don't have to know that.”

“Oh, no, I just found it so sweet I thought I was at risk for diabetes, that's all.” Tyler glanced between the two of them. “Anyway, things seem a little different between you guys. Anything you have to tell me?”

Troye was always surprised by just how perceptive Tyler could be. He was always the first person to know something. Last night, Troye and Connor had agreed that they'd tell him about the new development as soon as they could, but it seemed he'd already guessed. Troye glanced at Connor before saying, “I don't know how you figured it out, Tyler, but yeah, something's a bit different. Me and Connor made it official last night. We're, like, boyfriends now.”

“Took you long enough,” Tyler said with a chuckle. “But congratulations.”

“Teasing aside, I really am happy for you,” Korey added. “I think you guys are like the cutest thing ever.”

“That's what everyone says,” Troye said, sighing. “We're just so _adorable._ ”

“Well, we are, aren't we?” Connor popped his hands beneath his chin and grinned at an imaginary camera. Troye shoved him lightly in the shoulder, laughing.

After breakfast, they took the short walk from the hotel to the convention center. Troye and Connor walked together, a few steps behind Tyler and Korey. They kept their hands in their pockets, but anyone who listened to their conversation would not be fooled.

“So, are we gonna tell people? About us?” Troye asked. He braced for impact, fully expecting Connor to insist he wasn't ready for the dozenth time. But this time, finally, he was wrong.

“We will,” he said. “Once Vidcon is over and the craziness quiets down. I really want to tell my family in person, but I haven't got any plans to go to Minnesota soon. I know this is important to you, so I guess I could call or video chat...”

“No,” Troye said. “This is a big deal. You should tell them in person.” He paused, swallowed. “Maybe I could come. I could see where you grew up, and then we'd tell them together.”

Connor smiled. “Yeah, I think I'd like that.” He looked over at Troye, affection written all over his face. “I know my family loves me. It's not that I ever thought they wouldn't approve. The only thing that held me back from telling people was... me. I was the scared one. But I don't want to be scared anymore.”

Then Connor took a deep breath, tilted his head back to look up at the sky. “You can tell your family all about us, whenever you want. And of course, if you randomly find yourself in Minnesota, people on the Internet will start to talk. I think, if you really believe this is something, then we should maybe... make a video about it. Us.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I guess it could start out with just me, talking about what I've been going through. How I've started to figure myself out. And then, you could come in, and... I don't know. We could tell them about our relationship. I just hope my viewers will still...”

“Your viewers will still love you,” Troye insisted. He longed to reach out and touch him, but he remembered they were in public. “And if some of them leave, so be it. They're missing out, and you shouldn't hide who you are because of them. They don't deserve that much control over your life.” He patted Connor on the back and added, “Maybe we could make a second video on my channel, like a challenge or a tag. Just so people could, you know, get an idea about us. Lighten the mood and everything.”

Connor looked over at him, smiled. “I think that's a great idea.”

 * * *

Before Troye knew it, the last day of Vidcon was over. It had been another warm day in Anaheim marked with a lot of photo-ops, interviews, and fun. The late afternoon sun cast orange light outside. Connor had texted him to meet him by the convention center to walk back to the hotel together. Then they'd meet up with some friends for a final dinner together.

Troye stepped outside and was immediately spotted a few viewers milling about. He took a couple pictures with them while he waited. When Connor arrived minutes later, he too joined the photo op. At last, they were finished and began walking in the direction of the Hilton.

“It's crazy that it's almost over,” Connor said. He had his thumbs looped in his jeans pockets while he walked, and Troye suddenly remembered that he wasn't just his friend anymore. He was his boyfriend. Like in real life. It brought a smile to his face instantly.

“What are you smiling about? Are you so glad it's over?” Connor asked. He reached over, tugged on the sleeve of Troye's t-shirt. It was the sort of familiar gesture he could get used to. Wanted to get used to.

“No, I'm going to miss it. I was just thinking about... us. Now that we kind of are an us.” Troye touched him lightly on the shoulder, though he wished he could hold his hand instead. But he remembered what happened last time.

Only _this time_ it was Connor who reached across the space between them to draw his hand into his. Troye felt his heart stutter in his chest while Connor's fingers linked with his. This was what he had waited for. Finally, finally, they were together in the daylight, not a secret.

And maybe their audience didn't know yet, maybe their families didn't know, but holding hands with him in public, that was a step. A step he maybe shouldn't be so excited about, but whatever. He couldn't help it.

Troye couldn't resist the way he tugged on Connor's hand either, tugging him around the corner behind the building and into the alleyway. In the shadowed space between two buildings, he leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. It wasn't meant to be much—just a little kiss. To say thank you, to say everything words couldn't get across.

He felt Connor smile into his lips, then press in slightly deeper. But when he pulled away, still grinning, that smile disappeared almost immediately.

Because only ten feet away from where they stood were two girls, staring at them. Troye practically jumped backwards; his stomach clenched and his mind raced. There was no doubt in his mind. The girls had seen everything, and they knew exactly who they were, what they'd stumbled into.

Connor was speechless. His back hit against the brick wall like he couldn't hold himself up, and he made no attempt to say anything to the girls. Troye didn't know what to say either, only stood there with his mouth open, fumbling for words.

The blond girl, maybe seventeen years old, talked first. “Oh my god, I'm sorry, we didn't mean to see...” She bit her lip, looked slightly guilty. “You're Troye and Connor, right? I mean, I know that. You're like my favorites.”

They didn't say anything.

Behind the first girl, the dark haired girl raised her eyebrows at them. “So you guys are, like, together?”

There really wasn't any point lying, seeing as they were caught red-handed together. But it wasn't supposed to be like this. “Yeah, I guess,” Troye croaked, his voice barely working. “But you can't... you can't tell anyone. We don't want...”

“People aren't supposed to know yet,” said Connor, his voice high and reedy. “Please, just don't.”

“We won't, of course not,” the blonde insisted. “We didn't even mean to see. We were just walking back to our hotel.” She paused. “I mean, we saw the two of you and were hoping for, like, a picture but... We don't want to cause trouble.”

Troye could read the blonde. She was pretty, probably popular in school, very genuine. Wide-eyed and authentic. It was her friend, standing a bit farther back, that he worried about. He could see her fingers itching to grab the phone stuffed in her pocket. Whether to text her friends about what she'd seen (problematic) or to tweet it out to the world (potentially disastrous), he didn't know yet.

Beside him, he could see Connor sweating. This was not how they wanted the truth to come out. Not at all. They had a plan.

The silence between the four of them was thick with tension. Finally, the blonde said, “This might sound awful, but could we get a picture? We promise not to tell, and then we'll be out of your hair.”

“O-okay,” Troye stuttered, taking a shaky step towards the girls. He didn't know what else to do. First he and Connor took a picture with the blonde, then the dark haired girl. He knew the pictures would turn out awful, fake lop-sided smiles and pale faces.

“By the way, I'm Alaina,” said the blonde. “I've been subscribed to O2L since the beginning, and I subscribed to you, Troye, over a year ago. I would never, ever want to hurt you guys. Okay?”

“Yeah, it's fine,” Connor said. His voice sounded pinched, strained. It was obvious he was worried, nervous, scared.

“This is Megan,” Alaina said, gesturing towards her friend. “She's kind of shy, but. She loves you both too.” They all stood there, awkwardly, for a dragged-out moment. Finally, Alaina grabbed Megan by the forearm and started to pull her away. “I'm so sorry, guys. Really I am,” she said.

But Troye focused on the way Megan watched them over her shoulder for a second too long as the girls walked away. He noticed her pull her phone out of her pocket as she turned forward. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“What the hell are we going to do?” Connor whispered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I hope you liked it! There's some emotional stuff yet to come, but I hope you'll enjoy the ending. Thanks so much for reading so far! If you liked this, you can also check out my little AU oneshot called "Now is the Start" if you click on my username. Leave a comment if you want--I love reading them!


	11. Chapter 11

**Troye**

“No, no, it's okay. It's going to be okay,” Troye said, speed-walking down the hotel hallway to try and catch up to Connor. “We don't know yet if they'll tell. And people probably won't even believe them.” He hurried faster after him. “Connor, stop!”

Connor spun around on his heel. His face looked pallid, white like the sheets they shared each night. “It's not supposed to be this way.”

“What's not supposed to be this way?” Troye asked, finally catching up. They stood outside Connor's room, facing each other and having a conversation that was probably ill-suited for the hallway.

“Everything.” Connor raced his hands through his hair, disturbing it. He looked like a wreck. “I was finally ready. We were gonna do this maturely, carefully. We'd tell my parents; we'd make a nice video to explain it. But now it's all gonna come out in, like, a stupid tweet and a bunch of rumors, and everything else will be damage control.”

“Calm down, Con.” Troye cautiously put his hand on his shoulder, but he flinched under his touch. “It's been ten minutes. We don't even know if those girls will do anything.” After a moment, he added, “And if you want to do it our way, then if we act quickly...”

“Act quickly?”

Troye nodded, trying anything to convince him it would turn out all right. “We could film the video tonight, beat them to it. It doesn't have to be some scandalous thing if we explain ourselves before the rumors start flying.”

Connor hesitated, but only for a second. “No. No, I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you keep questioning me?” Connor stepped back, and Troye's hand fell from his shoulder. There was something angry, wild in Connor's eyes. “I just mean I can't... I can't do it. I'm scared. This isn't right.”

Troye resisted the urge to ask what wasn't right, it would only aggravate the situation. He waited for Connor to continue.

“I'm driving home tonight,” he finally said, shaking his head and looking lost. “I'm packing my stuff and going home.” Connor fumbled in his pocket for his key card, slid it in the slot. With shaky hands, he forced the door open and went in.

“Wait, what? We have another night reserved. Why are you going?” Troye followed him inside the room, where Connor was already grabbing his things and shoving them back into his suitcase.

“You can... you can sleep in your room tonight,” Connor said, stuffing his wrinkled and unfolded clothes into his luggage. “I'm sorry that I'm... I just have to go.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Troye asked. He hated the way his voice sounded, needy and hurt. But maybe that was how he felt.

“I'm not doing this to you.” Connor paused. “I'm doing this to me.”

“I don't understand.”

Connor knotted his hands together in front of him, fingers white. “I can't do this, okay? You always knew I was a coward. You knew from the beginning.” Troye tried to reach out to him, but Connor stepped backward.

“I have to leave. I can't be here. I can't keep dragging you down.”

“You're not dragging me down,” Troye insisted.

But before Troye could pull him back, reassure him that they could get through whatever happened together, Connor zipped up the side of his suitcase and pulled it after him by the handle. He was opening the door before Troye had a chance to react, to follow.

“Connor, don't leave.”

Only, it didn't matter. Connor was walking away, dragging his suitcase behind him, and leaving Troye behind in the room they'd made their own. And Troye stood there, motionless, as the air grew cold around him.

* * *

**Connor**

While driving home on the interstate in almost pure darkness, Connor wondered whether leaving was truly his only option.

Because when he'd told Troye his plans on how to reveal their relationship—to tell his family and then make a couple videos to tell YouTube—he hadn't been lying. He had genuinely wanted to do it. But when those girls discovered them, the weight of their plan hit him. So much could go wrong, and all of a sudden, he was reverting back to being scared again.

When he left, Connor believed he was doing it for the right reasons—for Troye. To show him that he wasn't worth it. That he was too scared, too ashamed, just plain _not good enough_ for him. He left because he couldn't drag Troye down with him in a spiral of disappointment and fear.

The driveway of the O2L house was dark and empty when he pulled his car into the garage. The other boys were staying in Anaheim for one more night, like most of the YouTubers besides him. After unlocking the front door and stepping inside, Connor dropped his suitcase by the stairs and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

His stomach felt like it dropped to the floor. He'd vaguely noticed his phone vibrating off the hook during the drive, but he'd been too distracted to be curious what about. Plus, he wasn't about to check his phone while driving, especially in the middle of the night. But now he saw that he had more notifications than he ever had in his life.

Like he thought they would, the girls had told. Numbly, he opened up Twitter to see what they had said.

He clicked on the original tweet he was tagged in—one by MeganHeartsGossip. It was the dark-haired one, the one with the smirk that told him there was no hope for their secret to stay secret. She had a whole string of tweets about them:

_“All Vidcon I've been keeping you guys updated on the latest Youtube gossip. But today I have perhaps the juiciest piece of gossip you'll hear all year.”_

_“Alaina and I were wandering around looking for people to take pics with and looking for any good gossip to reveal. We weren't disappointed.”_

_“In my next tweet, I will reveal the most surprising couple to come out of Vidcon 2014...”_

Connor noticed there was a ten-minute gap between that tweet and the next one to build up the drama. He tapped on it and saw dozens of anticipatory replies asking who it was. Megan clearly was no Twitter newbie—she had devoted followers who trusted the gossip and rumors she uncovered one way or another. He pressed the back button and looked at her follower count—65,204. Not much compared to him, but a very sizable number. Then he checked the next tweet, her most popular one by far.

_“I saw @troyesivan and @ConnorFranta kissing in an alleyway outside the convention center. Don't believe me? Believe this.”_

Attached was a photo of him and Troye doing just that. And it wasn't blurry or obstructed or anything; it was crisp and in focus. He and Troye were kissing, clear as day, and maybe his head was turned a little away, maybe it was a slightly shadowed, but there was no mistaking that it was the two of them. Anyone could look up what they were wearing that day and easily confirm who it was. No question.

This was much worse than he predicted. At first, he'd thought Megan and Alaina would tweet about it, maybe get a couple retweets and replies, but nobody would give it too much attention. It would just feed the general rumor mill. But this—this was much more. There was no denying a photo like that.

She had hundreds of retweets, dozens of replies.

_“I knew it! I've been shipping this for months!”_

_“But I ship me and Connor. Not fair, why does everyone cute have to be gay?”_

_“Omg I didn't see this coming, but cutest couple ever.”_

_“Nooooo, what about Troyler? This is stupid.”_

_“I didn't know Connor was gay. WTF.”_

_“This can't be real, it's gotta be a manip to get you more followers. Pathetic.”_

Or just a simple: _“So gay.”_

He couldn't stop scrolling, reading all the replies. Some of them were supportive of them as a couple, but a lot of tweets were confused or even angry. Connor's head spun. All at once, he wished he wasn't back in LA, home alone in the dark. He wished he was with someone, someone he could talk to.

Of course his first thought was Troye. They could have dealt with this together, but his first instinct was to run. And now he was alone.

His other social medias were blowing up with notifications too. His completely unrelated Instagram pics were bombarded with questions about his sexuality, his relationship with Troye, and even insults and hate. He knew he should shut off his phone and walk away, but he couldn't.

When he opened up iMessage, he didn't know who to answer first.

 

**Tyler:** Con, where are you? I've been looking everywhere. We can talk about this.

**Ricky:** It's gonna be ok, man. What are you gonna do?

**Zoe:** Con, honey, I'm so sorry. :( Things will work out, I promise. Everyone still loves you.

**Alfie:** You have to call us, Con. We're all worried sick about you. Troye's a mess.

**Tanya:** Please, please, talk to us. We've all been trying to reach you.

 

And of course:

 

**Troye:** Please don't leave. We can get through this. 

**Troye:** I love you, you know.

 

Connor knew. He knew, and that's what made this all so much worse. He was so afraid to let people in, to let them know his secret, that he pushed them away and ran when it got too real. But despite all of that, people chose to love him anyway, even when it wasn't deserved.

Connor fell down on his couch and closed his eyes. He just wanted all of this to go away. He didn't know who to call, what to do, where to start. It was all too much, and he couldn't handle it. His limbs felt numb, his stomach clenched. What was he supposed to do? Make a statement, tweet about it, ignore it?

That was when his mother texted him:

_ Connor, honey, I just heard the rumors. Are they true? Please just call us and talk to us. We love you. We're worried about you. _

He read the text, tears brimming at his eyes, and remembered where to begin. You always start at home.

* * *

**Tyler**

“You're saying he just left? He left and drove away?” Tyler repeated. He was sitting on the second bed in Troye's hotel room. Before tonight, neither of the beds had been touched—pristine and perfectly made—but now Troye curled up on one, pillow hugged to his chest, while Tyler and Zoe sat on the other.

Alfie, Marcus, and a few of their other friends had been there earlier, but it was now midnight. Tyler and Zoe were all that remained.

“I've told you a hundred times,” Troye replied, squeezing the pillow tighter against him. He looked so young and small as he laid on his side, his eyes red with prior tears. “That's all he said. He kept saying he had to leave.”

Zoe frowned as she watched him, her eyeliner smudged around her eyes from the ordeal. Troye was a mess, and it was rubbing off on all of them. “We've all tried texting him, Troye, but he hasn't answered. Do you think something might be wrong?” she asked.

“Well, if he drove home, I guess he wouldn't reply at first. Texting and driving and all.” Troye frowned. “But he should have got there by now. Right?”

“Yeah, I've drove from Anaheim to LA quite a few times,” Tyler said. “He should be home by now, even if there was traffic.”

Troye groaned and threw his arms over his head onto the pillows, clearly fed up with all of this. “It's not that I think something is wrong, but... We need to talk about this, right? Figure out what we're going to do now the cat's out of the bag.” He fidgeted in place. “I don't even know where we stand anymore.”

Tyler hated seeing his friend like this. Worst of all, there was a tiny part of him that worried maybe it was his fault. He was, ultimately, the one that pushed them together in the first place, although he knew how hesitant Connor had been to disclose his sexuality with people. Tyler thought Troye could have helped him, but instead they were stuck in this mess, and no one was the better for it.

“Did he break up with you?” Zoe asked.

“I don't know. He said he couldn't do this anymore, and he couldn't keep dragging me down. Whatever that means.”

Tyler stood up from the opposite bed and walked up to his friend. “Troye, you have to know that whatever happens, we'll be here for you. I know this is painful, but it'll turn out okay. I promise.”

Troye opened his mouth to say something, hesitated. Finally, he admitted, “But it's not okay. I mean, I... I love him.”

A fresh tear trickled down Zoe's cheek. “Troye...”

“We don't know what's going on with him yet,” Tyler said, although he feared his words were empty. He sat beside Troye, patted him on the back. “This could turn out okay. There's no reason to worry.”

But right now, when no one could get into contact with Connor, Tyler feared that maybe there was something to be worried about. He hoped not.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Sorry it's kind of short and angsty, but I had to for plot reasons... Anyway, there's only one chapter left, which should be up in a few days! And if you need something a little happier, I have two Tronnor oneshots uploaded if you want to check them out.


	12. Chapter 12

**Connor**

 

The day after shit hit the fan was bright, sunny, and warm—so beautiful the weather seemed like it was making fun of his misfortune. But as Connor rolled out of bed at eight AM, still in the clothes he wore the day before, he felt surprisingly okay as he stumbled to his feet. He'd expected to feel like crap, but that was not the case.

Like every morning, he checked his Twitter and other social media accounts before even hopping in the shower. His feed was, predictably, a mess. Connor was a generally organized person, and the crazy array of tweets and questions and rumors was enough to make his head hurt. But instead he took a deep breath and walked away. He let go.

Then he took a shower because at least in the water he couldn't be tempted to click on and read every speculation about him and Troye. As he shampooed his hair and let the hot water wake his body up, he remembered the conversation he'd had with his family the previous night over Skype.

After the fact, he wondered what had taken him so long to open up to them, seeing as they responded so well and with such understanding and love. He couldn't imagine the conversation going any better. Connor had explained to them how he'd figured out his sexuality over the past few months, as well as his relationship with Troye. He apologized for hiding what was happening from them, but they understood. Just talking to his parents and his siblings, finally being honest, lifted such a weight from his shoulders.

Now, in the daylight, Connor knew he'd overreacted horribly yesterday. He couldn't believe what he'd said to Troye and the way he'd stormed out and drove away. It was unacceptable, and it wasn't him. He had to make it better.

On top of all that, he had dozens of text messages from all his friends. Everyone back in Anaheim at Vidcon was worried sick about where he was and why he wasn't responding. His non-YouTube friends all wanted to know the truth and whether he was okay. But Connor couldn't even begin to slog his way all the responses right now.

Because right now he had a responsibility to make it up to Troye.

And maybe Troye wouldn't forgive him. That was a definite possibility. Sometimes love and affection and romantic gestures aren't enough to make up for bad actions and cruel words. Connor wouldn't blame him if Troye turned him away.

But he had to try to win him back. At the very least, he had to give it a try.

 

* * *

**Troye**

 

“Come on, Ty, just drive by his house. I want to see if he's there, if he's okay.” Troye jabbed his finger to point down the side road that veered toward Connor's address.

Tyler shook his head and continued driving toward his place. They'd decided the previous night that he would stay with Tyler until his flight a few days later. Before, he'd planned to stay with Connor, but that was all out the window now. “Troye, I don't know if that's such a good idea.”

“Why not? He still hasn't contacted either of us. We should check up on him, don't you think?”

Tyler sighed and kept driving. “I'm sure Connor's fine. The person I'm worried about right now is you. I don't want you to get hurt anymore.”

“Well, you have no control over that, Tyler. I know you're just trying to help, but what I need right now is to know whether my boyfriend is still my boyfriend and if he's okay or not.” Troye leaned back in the passenger seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “If you won't drive me there, I'll just walk.”

There was a part of Troye that was mad at Connor for the what he'd said, how he'd abandoned him with barely any explanation. But there was a bigger part of him that needed to see him, talk to him, hold him.

“Listen, Troye, I know I'm not your mother. I can't tell you what to do.” Tyler gripped at the wheel, took a deep breath. “But I'm asking you for this. Don't run to him. I know when you're in love with someone that's all you want to do—forgive. But sometimes you can't just do that. You need to wait for him to apologize, make it better, fix his mistakes. Or else this will never change, and you don't want that.”

Tyler was right. Troye loved the person Connor was—he was sweet, adorable, caring, hilarious. When he wanted to be. But right now he was stuck in place, and if Troye ever wanted him to improve himself—get over this secrecy and shame—he had to wait.

He'd have to wait until Connor was ready to acknowledge their relationship and who he was underneath all the speedy editing and theatrics. Until then there was nothing he could do. With a sigh, Troye relented. “Fine. I'll wait.”

 

* * *

**Connor**

 

Connor leaned back on his couch, stretching the stiff muscles of his back, and closed his laptop, burning hot on his thighs. He'd just spent the entire day rambling in front of his video camera and then editing those words together into something that vaguely made sense. It had taken hours of himself glued to the computer screen and yelling when any of his roommates made too much noise.

Ricky had tried to talk to him about what was wrong, which he appreciated, but for the moment he couldn't talk to anyone. He'd turned him away with a smile of apology and promised that things would be back to normal soon. Then he hid himself away to continue editing.

But finally Connor was done. He'd said what he needed to say.

There was only one thing left to do.

 

* * *

**Troye**

 

Troye woke up in bed alone for the second morning in a row. It was odd how this whole sleeping alone thing had been his life for eighteen years but now, after only a few nights with Connor, he could be so put off by half-empty beds and cold sheets. He lay there on his back, arm thrown across the bare side of the mattress. He hurt all over.

Tyler made waffles downstairs, set out a whole array of syrups and fruits to top them. It was sweet of him, but it also stung. Part of him wished he'd woken up to Connor, cooking for him and groveling for his forgiveness. Preferably shirtless.

But that was a selfish thought. Troye really was grateful for all the help Tyler had been lately. He thanked him before sprinkling strawberries over his waffle and drizzling on maple syrup in a zigzag pattern. “Thanks for the waffles but also thanks for, you know, everything else. You've been a good friend.”

“You're welcome,” Tyler said with a small smile that looked more sad than happy. He took a deep inhale and considered what he wanted to say. Finally, he added, “You know I love the two of you together, and I would love for you to be happy with Connor. But I just don't know if it can happen right now.”

Troye nodded. He understood. As happy as they'd made each other, if they couldn't be together in the daylight, in public, what kind of relationship was that? “I just wish I knew where Connor was coming from,” he said. “I don't know what he was so scared of. People come out every day, and we'd all support him through it.”

“He wasn't ready for the change,” Tyler speculated. “I think, maybe, if that girl hadn't tweeted about the two of you, he would have been totally ready to come out in a week or two. But she pushed it along before he was ready, and that scared him off.”

“Probably.” Troye regretted pulling Connor behind that building and kissing him so much. If he hadn't, those girls wouldn't have seen, and everything could have been fine.

Or maybe not.

“But Connor and I are really good friends too,” Tyler said after a beat of silence. “I know him, and I know how much he cares about you. Maybe it will take a few days, but I think he'll come around. You're too important to him for this to end so easily.”

Troye swallowed a bite of his waffle. “I hope you're right.”

 

* * *

 

For the rest of the day, Troye tried to distract himself. He caught up on his YouTube subscriptions, even read a little of the book he'd packed, but he kept going back to his phone and getting distracted by social media. Connor was still on radio silence, not a single tweet or update in the past two days. People were constantly tweeting both of them and all their friends, asking for the scoop.

Since they hadn't been in contact for over a day, Troye didn't know how to respond to the questions. Tyler noticed how distressed he was, and even tried to tweet a bit to calm things down.

 **Tyler:** _“Some of my friends are going through a tough time because of nosy people and rumors. Remember—we all deserve respect.”_

It did little to placate the fervor and curiosity around Troye and Connor. After that, Tyler attempted to distract him by filming a collab (a joint Q and slay), but Troye barely talked or laughed and his expression was stony. The footage was so painfully awkward that Tyler immediately deleted it afterward.

“Don't you think he should have called by now? Or do you think he's not going to come?” Troye was driving himself crazy with worry. He could barely eat, barely think.

“I don't know. I really don't know,” Tyler replied.

 

* * *

 

It was only when Troye finally gave up on seeing Connor on the doorstep, roses in hand, and apology on his lips that it finally happened.

It was four o'clock the next day, after spending the day with the Tyler and the Holy Trinity—Hannah, Grace, and Mamrie—and eating lunch at Olive Garden when there was a knock on the door. Troye was sprawled on the couch, flicking through TV channels, while Tyler answered it because it was his house, after all.

Troye was about to settle on a _Catfish_ marathon when he heard Tyler murmur “Oh my god” from the next room. His ears perked up, trying to hear who it could be. Then Tyler walked back into the living room and said, “Troye, there's someone here to see you.”

He knew who it was. Connor. Troye instantly felt his stomach knot and his throat dry up with nerves. He simultaneously felt like _about time_ and _too soon._ Shakily, he got to his feet. Tyler patted him twice on the shoulder as he walked by him to the front entrance.

Connor stood there in the doorway, solid and real and clearly anxious. He had a nervous smile on his face and a flower clutched in his hand. And looking at him, after two days of nothing, made a tiny part of Troye want to punch him and a much larger part want to hold him so close the differences dissolved.

Connor was the first one to make a move. Swallowing down his nerves, he reached out his hand to offer Troye the flower he held. It was a little wilted, but Troye supposed it was the, you know, the thought.

“I know you're not a girl, and I know you think flowers in general are kind of cliché, but... it's pretty. It's a white tulip. They mean forgiveness—I looked it up.”

Troye just looked at him for a second before he took the single flower. He rolled the delicate stem between his fingers, making the pale petals spin in the afternoon sun, while he waited for Connor to continue speaking.

“I know I fucked this up,” Connor said. His voice wobbled, and he swallowed at nothing before going on. “I shouldn't have run out on you at Vidcon, I shouldn't have said those things to you, I shouldn't have insisted we hide for so long... But I want to make it better. I need to.”

“How are you going to do that?” Troye asked. Words were words, and he needed more than that.

At that, Connor reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out two large paper tickets—plane tickets. Troye's eyes grew wide, and his heart sped up. What was he doing?

“Lately, I'm always thinking about the night things changed—in Rome. When we finally got together. Do you remember what you said to me in the bathroom before we kissed?” Connor asked.

“We said a lot,” Troye replied, unsure of his meaning. That night, as important as it was, was rendered in his memory as a blur. He remembered the kiss, the vague gist of their conversation, but somehow it felt like a dream to him. Like he'd woken up and it slipped away, more and more each second, and left him with only a general lightness.

But it seemed Connor remembered perfectly. It figured. He always remembered his dreams. When he woke up, sometimes he'd jot them down on his phone or whisper them to Troye while sunlight spilled over the covers.

“You mentioned Paris,” Connor went on. “You said, 'Paris is the most romantic city.' I don't know why, but that sort of stuck in my head.” Then Connor separated the tickets and handed one to Troye. He accepted it, swiped his thumb across the smooth, glossy paper. “These are two plane tickets to Paris, leaving tonight at nine o'clock.”

Troye was struck speechless, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the tickets. He didn't know what he expected Connor to do to make it up to him, but it certainly wasn't this. “I don't know what to say.”

“I'm not trying to kidnap you. I'm not trying to force you into something you don't want to do. And maybe you have something going on, but I... I think what we need to do to figure us out, who we're going to be—is to get away for a while. Together. Just us, no cameras. No phones even. I shut mine off and left it at home.”

“You left your phone at home?” In spite of himself, Troye giggled a little at that. Connor was lost without his phone and Internet, his Twitter and Instagram. But the more Troye thought about it, the better the idea sounded. In another country with another language, totally disconnected from the constant feed of opinions, that would really be the ideal place to rebuild what they had. It sounded perfect.

“Yeah, I left my phone.” Then Connor took a deep breath and explained, “Troye, I told my family two days ago about us and me, and I spent all day yesterday making a video so I could explain myself to my viewers. I'm finally ready to be honest. I have the video queued to upload tonight right before our plane leaves, so I don't have to watch all the reaction go down.”

“Did you... Did you talk about us?”

Connor nodded. “It's... it's honestly exactly what I wanted it to say.” He gently reached out, placed a hand on Troye's forearm. And just like that, the butterflies were back, fluttering in his stomach. Troye hoped they'd never leave. “I want to make this better. You are so important to me,” said Connor.

“You're important to me too.” That was only the first of it.

“So, will you come to Paris with me?”

It only took one second for Troye to nod. “Yes. I'll come with you.”

 

* * *

 

Maybe it wasn't the most logical thing to do. Maybe it was impulsive and colored by romantic sensibilities. Maybe... but he didn't care. Troye already had a flight booked back to Australia, a few more responsibilities back home. But there was no way he was letting this moment pass him by.

Troye hurriedly repacked the luggage he had strewn across Tyler's guest room for their imminent flight. As he stuffed his shirts back into his suitcase, he and Connor explained the plan to Tyler. While they continued to talk, Tyler's smile grew wider and wider until he couldn't restrain himself from pulling them into a group hug.

“This will turn out right. I know it,” Tyler said into Troye's shoulder as he held them close. They stepped apart. “Enjoy the city, enjoy each other, and don't worry about anything else. I'll handle the Internet.”

Troye and Connor both laughed. “I can't think of anyone better for that job,” Connor said. Then the expression on his face changed to something a little guilty. “And, Tyler, I'm sorry for anything I may have said to you that wasn't right. I know you were just trying to help me. And you did.”

“Thank you. Apology accepted.”

“Maybe when we get back from Paris, you and I can go somewhere too. I really want to make this better.”

“You're already making it better,” Tyler replied. “We all do dumb shit sometimes.” He gave them one last smile. “Now go climb the Eiffel Tower and kiss! Keep me updated... Actually, never mind, don't. We'll talk about it when you guys get back.”

 

* * *

**Connor**

 

It was about ten minutes before they were scheduled to board their flight when Connor's video went up. They were sitting in the proper terminal of LAX when Troye's phone vibrated with the notification of his new video. Troye had wanted to leave his phone at home too, but Connor said he should bring it to watch the video at least. Then he could shut it off and leave it in his suitcase if he wanted.

They both looked at each other as Troye's screen lit up. Finally, he swiped his finger across the screen to open up YouTube and jammed a pair of earbuds in. Troye glanced at Connor before handing him one bud. They'd do this together.

Connor hadn't wanted to give it a flashy, attention-grabbing title like he could have. Instead, he'd just called it “Being Honest.”

The second his face popped up on screen, Connor felt his whole body tighten with nerves. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about anything in the video; he was proud of it, but watching it was always going to be hard for him because of how personal it was. Beside him, Troye enclosed his hand in his, squeezed it. At least this time he wasn't alone.

 

_“Hi, guys, it's me Connor. And, um, today's video is going to be quite serious. It's not going to be funny or anything, but I have a lot of things that I need to get off my chest. I know a bunch of rumors have been going around, and... I need to say some things._

_“These rumors kind of started the last day of Vidcon, but this has been going on for a lot longer. It's always been something that has been tough for me to say out loud, or admit to at all. But I realized, once that information came out, that I was keeping a secret for the wrong reasons.”_

 

Then the Connor on screen shook his head. There was a jump cut. Connor remembered that he'd just sat there for a long moment, trying to figure out what to say. He was being too vague, dancing around the point. In the end, he just went for it.

 

_“The thing is... I haven't talked directly about my sexuality very often on this channel. A few times maybe I said I was straight, but I usually talked really vaguely. But the truth is, I don't even know what to label myself. I know I've been attracted to girls before and have dated them, and that could happen again, but I..._

_“Right now, I'm... I'm in love with a guy. And it feels really great, it feels really real, and that's the only person I can think about. I can't picture myself with anyone else. So maybe I'm gay or bi or something else, but it really doesn't matter what you call me. All I know is I love him._

_“And it's kind of awful because I've never actually said that to him in person. I felt it, but I could never say it because I was afraid. I was afraid to admit that I cared about him, and because of that, I kind of screwed things up._

_“I mean, you probably already know this, but the person I'm talking about is Troye Sivan. And I care about him so much, but I've done some not so nice things to him because I was hiding my sexuality and my relationship with him. That wasn't right. And that's why I needed to make this video._

_“For the next few days, I'll be completely checking out. I have something planned for me and Troye, if he'll take me back. Which maybe he shouldn't, but I hope he will. I won't be tweeting or accessing the Internet at all for probably the next week. We're going away because I think we need some time to disconnect from it all._

 

On the phone screen, Connor let out a deep breath, slouched down in the chair. It was obvious all the talking had taken a lot out of him.

 

_“So, thank you all for watching. I don't really know what this was, but it was really important for me to admit. I guess I'll see you guys in about a week, maybe longer. But right now, I have to finish fixing my mistakes. Bye.”_

 

The video ended, and Troye shut off his phone. Connor turned to face him and asked, “So... was that okay?”

“It was great. It was exactly what you needed to do.”

“Thanks.” He paused, breathed in deep. “It was really tough for me to make, but... things are going to be better now. Promise.”

Then Troye leaned in to press a quick kiss against his temple. Right in public. And this time there was no fear, no glancing around to see if anyone was looking. There was only peace. “I'm glad we can do this now. Be together like this,” Troye whispered.

“Me too.”

 

* * *

**Epilogue**

**Troye**

 

It turned out Troye was right: Paris was the most romantic city.

Together, they drank frothy cappuccinos and ate fruit-filled crepes. They walked down historic streets past famous landmarks, like the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe. They even hung a lock on the famous bridge over the Seine, something Troye had always thought was too sickeningly cliché for him to ever do.

Late one night, they climbed the Eiffel Tower. The steps seemed to be never ending, and even in the chill of the night, cold sweat dripped down Troye's forehead. But the stars were glittering, the moon was glowing, and the lights on the tower were shimmering. It was worth it. At the top, the wind was strong, blowing his hair every which way as he looked out onto Paris at night.

He and Connor took a few pictures with his camera. They hadn't vlogged, tweeted, or texted anyone the whole trip, but they'd taken plenty of photos. He knew he'd want to remember this trip forever. He couldn't recall when he was last this happy.

And maybe it was the romanticism of spending a midnight in Paris, away from the real world with the person he loved... but Troye had a feeling their was a lot more, better things to come.

* * *

That night they lay together on their hotel bed, stars piercing the sky through the window. Troye crossed his fingers and wished the moment of perfect contentment could last forever, though he knew it couldn't.

Instead, he closed his eyes and fell asleep to the sound of Connor's breathing and the rhythm of their peaceful heartbeats fading into one.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me and this story! If you enjoyed, be sure to leave me a comment letting me know. I hope to write some more shorter stories in the future as well, so keep an eye out. Thanks!


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